that, and you must excuse me, my dear. But surely your
people--your father and mother--would want to have you get on in the
world--to make a brilliant match--"

Clementina smiled to think how far such a thing was from their
imaginations. "I don't believe they would ca'e. You don't undastand about
them, and I couldn't make you. Fatha neva liked the notion of my being
with such a rich woman as Mrs. Lander, because it would look as if we
wanted her money."

"I never could have imagined that of you, Clementina!"

"I didn't think you could," said the girl gratefully. "But now, if I left
her when she was sick and depended on me, it would look wohse, yet--as if
I did it because she was going to give her money to Mr. Landa's family.
She wants to do that, and I told her to; I think that would be right;
don't you?"

"It would be right for you, Clementina, if you preferred it--and--I
should prefer it. But it wouldn't be right for her. She has given you
hopes--she has made promises--she has talked to everybody."

"I don't ca'e for that. I shouldn't like to feel beholden to any one, and
I think it really belongs to his relations; it was HIS."

Miss Milray did not say anything to this. She asked, "And if you went
back, what would you do there? Labor in the fields, as poor little Belsky
advised?"

Clementina laughed. "No; but I expect you'll think it's almost as crazy.
You know how much I like dancing? Well, I think I could give dancing
lessons at the Middlemount. There are always a good many children, and
girls that have not grown up, and I guess I could get pupils enough, as
long as the summa lasted; and come winter, I'm not afraid but what I
could get them among the young folks at the Center. I used to teach them
before I left home."

Miss Milray sat looking at her. "I don't know about such things; but it
sounds sensible--like everything about you, my dear. It sounds queer,
perhaps because you're talking of such a White Mountain scheme here in
Venice."

"Yes, don't it?" said Clementina, sympathetically. "I was thinking of
that, myself. But I know I could do it. I could go round to different
hotels, different days. Yes, I should like to go home, and they would be
glad to have me. You can't think how pleasantly we live; and we're
company enough for each other. I presume I should miss the things I've
got used to ova here, at fust; but I don't believe I should care a great
while. I don't deny but what the wo'ld is nice; but