with an air of great penetration.

Mrs. Morrison had become very fond of Lillian. Over their Christmas work
they had found each other out, and a real friendship had begun. Beneath
the girl's somewhat cold and reserved manner there was a genuine
sweetness and charm which had at once responded to the unaffected
friendliness of the older woman.

Miss Moore professed to be extremely jealous, saying that already
Lillian cared more for Mrs. Morrison than she did for her; and on the
other hand, although she herself had been sociable to the last degree
with her neighbors, they openly preferred her taciturn companion. "It is
well that virtue is its own reward, for it certainly does not get any
other, in my experience," she remarked whimsically.

"Don't be such a goose, Mary; you know everybody likes you," replied
Miss Sherwin.

"Oh, yes, they like me, and say I am good-natured, because there is
nothing else to be said. It is my fate to be commonplace, and I must
make up my mind to it," and Miss Moore hurried away to her afternoon
class with her usual cheery face. Her moody friend was a puzzle to her,
and she by no means begrudged her any companionship that would make her
happier.

Miss Sherwin sat at her desk. Before her lay the envelope containing
the check in payment for "The Story of the Missing Bridge," but she did
not look like one whose efforts had been crowned with success. After a
few ineffectual attempts to go to work, her head went down among the
papers, and it was thus Mrs. Morrison found her.

"I knocked and thought I heard you answer," she said, "but even if I did
not, I can't go away now without trying to comfort you."

The pressure of the arm around her, the touch of the soft hand, was too
grateful to be resisted; Lillian leaned her head against her friend as
she sobbed, "It is only that I am such a goose!"

"I know all about that, dear, we so frequently are," Mrs. Morrison
replied, smiling a little all to herself. "But," she added, "you ought
to be happy to-day. I came up to congratulate you on your story."

"I have had three taken this week, and instead of being happy I hate it
all!" Lillian's head went down on the papers again.

By dint of much patient encouragement and real sympathetic interest the
story came out by degrees; all the hidden sorrow of months found an
outlet in the broken little confession. Not very clearly told, it was
yet plain enough in a general way.

A boy and girl friendship ha