Don't thank anything with which you have so little acquaintance; it's
apt to never be appreciated."

"No acquaintance that I have with anything, or any body troubles me as
much as the acquaintance that I have with you."

"You have my sympathy, for I'm troubled with the same feeling."

"Do hush," exclaimed Kittie. "It's perfectly awful the way you two do
talk. Ralph, come play chess. Kat, I'm astonished."

"I don't wonder; so am I; but I never had such an object to deal with
before, so no wonder I do some unusual things," cried Kat, and bounced
out of the room to hide the tears that would come; for Kittie's voice
was reproof, and she took Ralph's part, and that was altogether too
much!

CHAPTER XIV.

STUDY OR PLAY?

Olive was standing at the window, with a thoughtful face. Any one who
remembered seeing her on the porch one evening, a little over two years
ago, and recalled her face then, compared to what it was now, would have
said in incredulous amaze:

"What a change!"

She was now nearly seventeen, though she looked every day of twenty,
both in face and figure. There was such a settled, purposeful look in
the face, and so much strength and soul looking out from the eyes, that
had been used to scowling fiercely, so much determination expressed in
the mouth, that had caught the trick of smiling much more readily than
it once had. Nor was this all of the change either; she had come to
realize that care in personal attire, and a study of pleasing others,
could frame the most unattractive in attractive guise, and indeed, they
had done their work for her. Instead of wearing the very things that she
knew did not harmonize with her peculiar dark complexion, she studied
what was becoming. Her hair, which was luxuriously long and heavy, she
wore in such a manner as to soften the severe outline to head and face,
and waved it deeply in front, so that curly tendrils of hair lessened
the height of her too-high brow, and gave a more girlish look to the
thoughtful face. In short, the Olive of two years ago was not much like
the Olive of to-day, and in what her character had changed, I leave you
to find out for yourself.

She stood there, looking out, and something pleasing, evidently, caught
her eye, for it brightened suddenly, then in a moment a look of regret
chased the smile from her face.

"What is it, dear?" inquired Mrs. Dering.

"What, mama?"

"The faces of my girls are so dear to me, that I can read t