s this: "Do you love your father more than
anything else in all the whole world?"

Ermengarde's mouth fell open a little. She knew that it would be far
from behaving like a respectable child at a select seminary to say that
it had never occurred to you that you COULD love your father, that you
would do anything desperate to avoid being left alone in his society
for ten minutes. She was, indeed, greatly embarrassed.

"I--I scarcely ever see him," she stammered. "He is always in the
library--reading things."

"I love mine more than all the world ten times over," Sara said. "That
is what my pain is. He has gone away."

She put her head quietly down on her little, huddled-up knees, and sat
very still for a few minutes.

"She's going to cry out loud," thought Ermengarde, fearfully.

But she did not. Her short, black locks tumbled about her ears, and
she sat still. Then she spoke without lifting her head.

"I promised him I would bear it," she said. "And I will. You have to
bear things. Think what soldiers bear! Papa is a soldier. If there
was a war he would have to bear marching and thirstiness and, perhaps,
deep wounds. And he would never say a word--not one word."

Ermengarde could only gaze at her, but she felt that she was beginning
to adore her. She was so wonderful and different from anyone else.

Presently, she lifted her face and shook back her black locks, with a
queer little smile.

"If I go on talking and talking," she said, "and telling you things
about pretending, I shall bear it better. You don't forget, but you
bear it better."

Ermengarde did not know why a lump came into her throat and her eyes
felt as if tears were in them.

"Lavinia and Jessie are 'best friends,'" she said rather huskily. "I
wish we could be 'best friends.' Would you have me for yours? You're
clever, and I'm the stupidest child in the school, but I--oh, I do so
like you!"

"I'm glad of that," said Sara. "It makes you thankful when you are
liked. Yes. We will be friends. And I'll tell you what"--a sudden
gleam lighting her face--"I can help you with your French lessons."

4

Lottie

If Sara had been a different kind of child, the life she led at Miss
Minchin's Select Seminary for the next few years would not have been at
all good for her. She was treated more as if she were a distinguished
guest at the establishment than as if she were a mere little girl. If
she had been a self-opinionated, do