cheerily, "I expect you to smack your
lips and say this is good; it's not Randall, but Sawyer milk toast."

"You've tried all kinds on me, one time an' another," Miranda answered.
"This tastes real kind o' good; but I wish you hadn't wasted that nice
geranium."

"You can't tell what's wasted," said Rebecca philosophically; "perhaps
that geranium has been hoping this long time it could brighten
somebody's supper, so don't disappoint it by making believe you don't
like it. I've seen geraniums cry,--in the very early morning!"

The mysterious trouble to which Jane had alluded was a very real one,
but it was held in profound secrecy. Twenty-five hundred dollars of the
small Sawyer property had been invested in the business of a friend of
their father's, and had returned them a regular annual income of a
hundred dollars. The family friend had been dead for some five years,
but his son had succeeded to his interests and all went on as formerly.
Suddenly there came a letter saying that the firm had gone into
bankruptcy, that the business had been completely wrecked, and that the
Sawyer money had been swept away with everything else.

The loss of one hundred dollars a year is a very trifling matter, but
it made all the difference between comfort and self-denial to the two
old spinsters Their manner of life had been so rigid and careful that
it was difficult to economize any further, and the blow had fallen just
when it was most inconvenient, for Rebecca's school and boarding
expenses, small as they were, had to be paid promptly and in cash.

"Can we possibly go on doing it? Shan't we have to give up and tell her
why?" asked Jane tearfully of the elder sister.

"We have put our hand to the plough, and we can't turn back," answered
Miranda in her grimmest tone; "we've taken her away from her mother and
offered her an education, and we've got to keep our word. She's
Aurelia's only hope for years to come, to my way o' thinkin'. Hannah's
beau takes all her time 'n' thought, and when she gits a husband her
mother'll be out o' sight and out o' mind. John, instead of farmin',
thinks he must be a doctor,--as if folks wasn't gettin' unhealthy
enough these days, without turnin' out more young doctors to help 'em
into their graves. No, Jane; we'll skimp 'n' do without, 'n' plan to
git along on our interest money somehow, but we won't break into our
principal, whatever happens."

"Breaking into the principal" was, in the minds of mos