place of one, Worth."

Mrs. Kirby seconded this with a cordiality that won Worth's affection
at once. The girl felt almost bewildered by her happiness.

"I feel as if I were in a dream," she said to Millicent as they walked
to their boarding-house. "It's really all too wonderful to grasp at
once. You don't know, Millie, how lonely I've felt often under all my
nonsense and fun. Aunt Delia was kind to me, but she was really no
relation, she had a large family of her own, and I have always felt
that she looked upon me as a rather inconvenient duty. But now I'm so
happy!"

"I'm so glad for you, Worth," said Millicent warmly, "although your
gain will certainly be my loss, for I shall miss my roommate terribly
when she goes to live at Beechwood. Hasn't it all turned out
strangely? If you had never gone to Beechwood in my place, this would
never have happened."

"Say rather that if we hadn't gone to confess our fault, it would
never have happened," said Worth gently. "I'm very, very glad that I
have found Uncle George and such a loving welcome to his home. But I'm
gladder still that I've got my self-respect back. I feel that I can
look Worth Gordon in the face again."

"I've learned a wholesome lesson, too," admitted Millicent.

The Blue North Room

"This," said Sara, laying Aunt Josephina's letter down on the kitchen
table with such energy that in anybody but Sara it must have been said
she threw it down, "this is positively the last straw! I have endured
all the rest. I have given up my chance of a musical education, when
Aunt Nan offered it, that I might stay home and help Willard pay the
mortgage off--if it doesn't pay us off first--and I have, which was
much harder, accepted the fact that we can't possibly afford to send
Ray to the Valley Academy, even if I wore the same hat and coat for
four winters. I did not grumble when Uncle Joel came here to live
because he wanted to be 'near his dear nephew's children.' I felt it
my Christian duty to look pleasant when we had to give Cousin Caroline
a home to save her from the poorhouse. But my endurance and
philosophy, and worst of all, my furniture, has reached a limit. I
cannot have Aunt Josephina come here to spend the winter, because I
have no room to put her in."

"Hello, Sally, what's the matter?" asked Ray, coming in with a book.
It would have been hard to catch Ray without a book; he generally took
one even to bed with him. Ray had a headful of brains, a