h a sigh, though she never had cared a bit till lately.

"Why don't you dust round a little, then? No time to spare from the
books and play?"

"I tried, father, but Miss Bat didn't like it, and it was too hard for
me alone. If things were once in nice order, I think I could keep them
so; for I do want to be neat, and I'm learning as fast as I can."

"It is high time someone took hold, if matters are left as you say. I've
just been thinking what a clever woman Miss Bat was, to make such a tidy
little girl out of what I used to hear called the greatest tomboy in
town, and wondering what I could give the old lady. Now I find _you_ are
the one to be thanked, and it is a very pleasant surprise to me."

"Give her the present, please; I'm satisfied, if you like what I've
done. It isn't much, and I didn't know as you would ever observe any
difference. But I did try, and now I guess I'm really getting on," said
Molly, sewing away with a bright color in her cheeks, for she, too,
found it a pleasant surprise to be praised after many failures and few
successes.

"You certainly are, my dear. I'll wait till the house-cleaning is
over, and then, if we are all alive, I'll see about Miss Bat's reward.
Meantime, you go with Mrs. Grant and get whatever you and the boy need,
and send the bills to me;" and Mr. Bemis lighted a cigar, as if that
matter was settled.

"Oh, thank you, sir! That will be splendid. Merry always has pretty
things, and I know you will like me when I get fixed," said Molly,
smoothing down her apron, with a little air.

"Seems to me you look very well as you are. Isn't that a pretty enough
frock?" asked Mr. Bemis, quite unconscious that his own unusual interest
in his daughter's affairs made her look so bright and winsome.

"This? Why, father, I've worn it all winter, and it's _frightfully_
ugly, and almost in rags. I asked you for a new one a month ago, and you
said you'd 'see about it'; but you didn't, so I patched this up as well
as I could;" and Molly showed her elbows, feeling that such masculine
blindness as this deserved a mild reproof.

"Too bad! Well, go and get half a dozen pretty muslin and gingham
things, and be as gay as a butterfly, to make up for it," laughed her
father, really touched by the patches and Molly's resignation to the
unreliable "I'll see about it," which he recognized as a household word.

Molly clapped her hands, old gloves and all, exclaiming, with girlish
delight, "How nice it