nd neatest lettering. The awkward fact that earthenware does
not usually grace a royal board, or that the saintly old grandmother
mixed up dates and persons in a wonderful way during her latter days,
made no difference to her loyal descendants. Each platter with the black
chipping betraying plainly its lowly origin, each tea-cup mended with
cement, bore the paper-claim pasted securely upon it.

"It took up a whole afternoon," said Miss Tina Miller, "but it's _so_
precious and there might be other blue ware and it _might_ get
mixed--you'll insure it, Miss Hopkins? not that money could replace such
things, but, at least"--Miss Tina Miller always left her sentences in
the air, seemingly too diffident to complete them, once the auditors
were assured of their import.

The Millers kept a tiny little house on a tiny little income; but gave
of all they had to give, themselves, without stint. They were
public-spirited women, if Fairport ever held any such. Although they had
neither brothers nor cousins to go to the war, they had picked lint and
made bandages and trudged with subscription papers and scrimped for
weeks to have money to spend at the patriotic fairs. In consequence they
were deeply respected, so respected that it was simply impossible to
refuse their unselfish offering of their dearest god.

"I think it just _noble_ of you," said Miss Tina. "Sister and I felt we
_must_ help; so we brought the King George china and a little pencil
head our sister Euphrosyne did. The one who died, you know. I'm sorry
all your--art things--aren't in yet. No, I can't come to-morrow; I
shall be very busy--sister may come--_thank_ you."

* * * * *

Both the keen young listeners knew why Miss Tina could not come; it was
neither more nor less than the admission fee.

"But I'll take care of that," said Emma to Claudia in the coal hold.
"Elly is going to give her and Miss Ally each a season ticket."

"Then we're _in_ for the King George china!" groaned Claudia softly.

"We are," said Emma. "I've put it in a good but not too good a place,
and Mr. Winslow is inspecting it now."

"And he _knows_ about china; he's sent lovely things," mourned Claudia.

"Oh, well, he knows about the Miller girls, too," said Emma, smiling; "I
think he'll forgive us."

"You'd better go explain," urged Claudia, "and throw in that landscape
with the cow that seems to have five legs and belongs to Mr. Harness.
Perhaps he'll f