in.

By degrees they became better acquainted with old Willis; but it was not
till he began to be regarded, and to consider himself, as an intimate
friend of the family that Bernard's mother ventured to tell him they knew
of his kind deed done in secret,--a revelation which caused him much
confusion. Bernard had discovered long before that their eccentric
neighbor, far from being a parsimonious hoarder of untold wealth, was, in
fact, almost a poor man. He possessed a life-interest in the house in
which he dwelt, and the income of a certain investment left to him by the
will of a former employer in acknowledgment of faithful service. It was
a small amount, intended merely to insure his support; but, in spite of
his age, he still worked for a livelihood, distributing the annuity in
charity. The noble-hearted old man stinted himself that he might be
generous to the sick, the suffering, the needy; for the "miser's gold"
was only a treasure of golden deeds.

THAT RED SILK FROCK.

I.

You could not help liking little Annie Conwell; she was so gentle, and
had a half shy, half roguish manner, which was very winning. And,
then, she was so pretty to look at, with her pink cheeks, soft blue
eyes, and light, wavy hair. Though held up as a model child, like most
people, including even good little girls, she was fond of her own way;
and if she set her heart upon having anything, she wanted it without
delay--right then and there. And she usually got it as soon as
possible; for Mr. Conwell was one of the kindest of fathers, and if
Annie had cried for the moon he would have been distressed because he
could not obtain it for her; while, as the two older children, Walter
and Josephine, were away at boarding-school, Mrs. Conwell, in her
loneliness at their absence, was perhaps more indulgent toward her
little daughter than she would otherwise have been.

Annie's great friend was Lucy Caryl. Lucy lived upon the next block;
and every day when going to school Annie called for her, or Lucy ran
down to see if Annie was ready. Regularly Mrs. Conwell said:
"Remember, Annie, I want you to come straight from school, and not stop
at the Caryls'. If you want to go and play with Lucy afterward, I have
no objection, but you _must_ come home first."

"Yes, um," was the docile answer she invariably made.

But, strange as it may seem, although Annie Conwell was considered
clever and bright enough in general, and often stood head of