es of that name living half a mile or so from
here," she said. Then remembering they were very poor, and that poor
relations were not always cordially accepted, she hesitated.

"Father spoke of some cousins," cried the little girl eagerly. "He said
sometime we would hunt them up. We only came to New York to live two
weeks ago."

"Then you have hardly had time to look up any one. They would be glad to
see your father, I know. He looks so wholesome and good-natured."

The little girl was not an effusive child, but she and the lady fell
into a delightful talk. Then her hostess brought in a plate of seed
cookies, and she was eating them very delicately when her father
entered.

"We have had such a nice time," she said, "that I'd like you to bring
your little girl up again. Indeed, I have half a mind to keep her."

"We couldn't spare her," said her father, with a fond smile, which Hanny
returned.

"I suppose not. But it will soon be beautiful around here, and when she
longs for a breath of the country you must bring her up."

"Thank you, madam."

"And oh, father, the cousins really are here. Two old, old ladies----"

Mr. Underhill inquired about them, and learned their circumstances were
quite straitened. He promised to come up soon and see them.

Mrs. Brockner kissed Hanny, quite charmed with her simplicity and pretty
manner. And she had never once thought about the length of her old
brown skirt.

It was supper time when they reached home. Steve and Joe and John were
there. The three younger boys had been left at Yonkers. Indeed, George
had declared his intention of being a farmer. Mrs. Underhill said she
didn't want any more boys until she had a place to put them.

Afterward Joe coaxed the little girl to come and sit on his knee. They
were talking about schools.

"Seems to me, Margaret better be studying housekeeping and learning how
to make her clothes instead of going to school," said Mrs. Underhill
shortly. "She can write a nice letter and she's good at figures, and,
really, I don't see----"

"She wants to be finished," returned Steve, with a laugh. "She's a city
girl now. I've been looking schools over. There are several
establishments where they burnish up young ladies. There's Madame
Chegary's----"

"I won't have her going to any French school and reading wretched French
novels!"

Steve threw back his head and laughed. He had such splendid, strong,
white teeth.

"My choice would be Rutgers Inst