she
met the disapproving gaze of the long line of family portraits. "It is
to keep up your own old traditions that I am doing it."

Then something of the proud spirit of her ancestors seemed to take
possession of her as she passed out of their patronising presence. It
helped her to hold her head high, and carried her through a trying
interview with the most fashionable dressmaker in the city, whither
she had slipped away with some little models of children's dresses of
her own designing and making.

At the end of an hour she came away triumphant. Madame, impressed by
her references, quick to see the value of her original ideas, and
shrewd enough to know how useful this artistic young girl could be to
her, consented to her proposition to establish a department for the
making of children's fancy costumes, of which Claribel was to be in
charge. At first the woman named a salary so low that she would not
have dared propose it, had she not thought that necessity had driven
the girl to such a step. She was used to beating down her employees to
absurdly low wages. Then it was that the pride of all her ancestors
seemed to blaze out of Claribel's eyes, and she drew herself up
haughtily.

[Illustration: "'YOU NEEDN'T LOOK AT ME IN THAT WAY,' SHE
WHISPERED, DEFIANTLY."]

"You know that the designing alone would be worth four times that sum,
madame," she said, quietly. "If that is the best you can do, we will
not discuss the subject farther."

Madame hastily retracted then. She knew it would never do to let this
opportunity slip into the hands of a rival, and the names of
Claribel's references were too prominent to overlook. So a little
later, when the next train bore the excited young girl homeward, it
was a triumphant voice that poured out the story of her success to
Wilma, who met her at the gate.

"And at a salary that will put new shingles on old Marchmont," she
cried, "and put Daphne in the kitchen, and picnic fare in the pantry
every day."

"You needn't think you're going to do it all," exclaimed Wilma. "This
very day I discovered all the old hothouse frames stored away in the
carriage-house, as good as new; and Mam Daphne told me so many tales
about the violets and the lettuce that used to be the boast of
Marchmont every winter, that I went over to consult papa's old
gardener. Sister has actually consented to let me try my hand at
raising both. I haven't told her yet that it is my ambition to furnish
the fas