a
chicken breast, half a bottle of olives, and cake untouched. This Landis
gathered together in a heap in her napkin. She arose and leaned toward the
window. As she did so, the lady with whom Elizabeth had been talking
touched her on the arm. But it was too late. The contents of the napkin
had at that moment gone out the window.

"I beg pardon," she said, "I was about to ask you not to throw that good
lunch away. There's a woman, a foreigner, with her children in the rear of
the coach, who has had nothing to eat."

"I do not know that it is my place to provide it for her," cried Landis,
with a haughty toss of her head.

"I am sorry that you see the matter in that light," was the rejoinder.
"There are so many little mouths to be fed that I dislike to see good food
wasted. Extravagance can be so extreme as to become a sin."

"I do not know that it is anyone's affair what I do with my lunch," was
the response.

The woman smiled, not at all affronted by the lack of courtesy shown her.

"I make many things my affairs," she said sweetly. "I think it my duty
when I see a girl as young as you doing what is not right to remind her,
in a spirit of love and tenderness, of her error. I am sorry if my
suggestion can not be received in the spirit in which it was given." Then
she went back to her place.

From the conversation of the two girls, Elizabeth caught such expressions
as "that class of people," "counting each penny," "bound down by poverty,"
and similar phrases.

The train had started on its way. A half-mile passed before it again
slowed up. "This is Gleasonton," said the lady, arising and coming to Mrs.
Koons to assist her with the children. With a farewell nod and smile to
Elizabeth, they quitted the car. From the window she saw them try to make
their way through the crowd of loafers which had gathered about the
platform. Suddenly a young colored boy in snuff-colored suit and high hat
appeared. He immediately took charge of the children, and with them in his
arms pushed his way to where a carriage stood at the curb, the women
following close at his heels.

As the train pulled out, Elizabeth saw them bowling down the country road
in a wide-open barouche, with coachman and footman in livery.

It was not long until the trainman called "Exeter!" Elizabeth gathered up
her wraps and magazines. She knew that she might expect a carriage from
the Hall at the station to meet the students.

Landis and Min had also gathere