icture of Mr. Perkins was on one wall, while on the
opposite side of the room hung one of Mrs. Perkins.

Pearl told the other children about them when she went home. "There
they are," she said, "just glarin' straight at each other, day and
night, winter or summer, just the same, neither one of them givin' in
an inch. 'I can stare as long as you,' you'd think they was saying,
the way they've got their eyes glued on one another; and it ain't
cheerful."

A hanging lamp, with its fringe of glittering pendants, hung over a
table made of spools like the bookshelves, and covered with a drape
of tissue paper table-napkins, cut into a deep fringe around the
edge.

The table that held the family Bible had a cover made of rope,
hanging in huge tassels down at each corner. Under the carpet had
been placed newspapers, to make it wear better, and it crackled
noisily as they walked over it. On the window curtains were pinned
little calendars and Christmas cards, stuck on ribbons.

To Pearl these decorations were full of beauty, all except the wool
wreath, which hung over the lounge in a deep frame covered with
glass; but its indigo and mustard coloured roses and swollen bright
green leaves made her suspicious that it was not in keeping with the
findings of good taste.

There was something in Pearl's sympathetic interest that encouraged
Martha to show her the contents of a cupboard upstairs in her room.

There were quilts in abundance. Martha held them up lovingly in
different angles to show how they "make a pattern every way you look
at them." There were the "Pavements of New York" in blue and white,
the "Double Irish Chain" in red and white, "Fox and Geese" in buff
and white; there were daintily hemstitched sheets and pillow covers;
there were hooked mats in great variety, a lovely one in autumn
leaves which seemed a wonderful creation to Pearl; there were
pin-cushions, all ribbon and lace, and picture-frames ready for
pictures, made of pine cones that Martha had gathered on the
sand-hills of the Assiniboine.

When Pearl had feasted her eyes on all these wonders and praised them
abundantly, Martha opened her trunk and showed her a still more
precious store of hand embroidery, such beautiful garments as Pearl
had never dreamed of.

"Martha," she cried impulsively, "are you going to be married, too?"

Martha's pale face flushed painfully, and Pearl was quick to see her
mistake.

"No, I am not, Pearl," she answered steadil