will be asked
to all my parties."

"Oh, my heart! You are going to be odd, just as Mama predicted!" sighed
Annabel, clasping her hands in despair and studying the effect of three
bracelets on her chubby arm in the midst of her woe.

"In my own house I'm going to do as I think best, and if people call me
odd, I can't help it. I shall endeavor not to do anything very dreadful,
but I seem to inherit Uncle's love for experiments and mean to try some.
I daresay they will fail and I shall get laughed at. I intend to do it
nevertheless, so you had better drop me now before I begin," said Rose
with an air of resolution that was rather alarming.

"What shall you wear at this new sort of party of yours?" asked Annabel,
wisely turning a deaf ear to all delicate or dangerous topics and
keeping to matters she understood.

"That white thing over there. It is fresh and pretty, and Phebe has one
like it. I never want to dress more than she does, and gowns of that
sort are always most becoming and appropriate to girls of our age."

"Phebe! You don't mean to say you are going to make a lady of her!"
gasped Annabel, upsetting her treasures as she fell back with a gesture
that made the little chair creak again, for Miss Bliss was as plump as a
partridge.

"She is one already, and anybody who slights her slights me, for she is
the best girl I know and the dearest," cried Rose warmly.

"Yes, of course I was only surprised you are quite right, for she may
turn out to be somebody, and then how glad you'll feel that you were so
good to her!" said Annabel, veering around at once, seeing which way the
wind blew.

Before Rose could speak again, a cheery voice called from the hall,
"Little mistress, where are you?"

"In my room, Phebe, dear," and up came the girl Rose was going to "make
a lady of," looking so like one that Annabel opened her china-blue eyes
and smiled involuntarily as Phebe dropped a little curtsey in playful
imitation of her old manner and said quietly: "How do you do, Miss
Bliss?"

"Glad to see you back, Miss Moore," answered Annabel, shaking hands in a
way that settled the question of Phebe's place in her mind forever, for
the stout damsel had a kind heart in spite of a weak head and was really
fond of Rose. It was evidently "Love me, love my Phebe," so she made up
her mind on the spot that Phebe was somebody, and that gave an air of
romance even to the poorhouse.

She could not help staring a little as she watched