ether, and with the spirit of those half-dozen
ecclesiastics sounding in her nasal sing-song, she voiced her stern
reproof:

"My dear brothers!"

"Aw," scoffed a boy, "we ain't neither your brothers."

"I am speaking in the broad sense," explained Dora, with the loftiness of
one who addresses a throng from a pulpit. Then shaking a finger, "'The
wicked flee when no man pursueth'--Proverbs, twenty-eighth chapter, and
first verse."

"We're not wicked," denied the boy. "Mr. Farvel told us to come."

"We're goin' to rehearse for the weddin'," chimed in the tow-headed one.

Dora let her look travel from face to face, the while she shook her head
solemnly. "But," she reminded, "if Mrs. Milo finds you here, only a
miracle can save you!"

"Aw, I'm not afraid of her,"--the uncombed chorister advanced bravely.
"She's only a boarder. And after this, I'm goin' to mind just Mr.
Farvel."

Something like horrified pity lengthened the pale face of Dora. "Little
boys," she advised, "in these brief years since I left the Orphanage,
I've seen ministers come and ministers go. But Mrs. Milo"--she turned
away--"like the poor----" Her ministerial gesture was eloquent of
hopelessness.

The boys in the passage stared at one another apprehensively. But their
leader was flushed with excitement and wrath. "Dora," he cried, hurrying
over to check her going, "do you know what I wish would happen?"

She turned accusingly. "Oh, Bobbie! What a sinful thought!"

"But I wasn't wishin' _that_!"

"Drive it out of your heart!" she counseled, with all the passion of an
evangelist. "Drive it out of your heart! Remember: she can't live
forever. She ain't immortal. But let her stay her appointed
time,"--this last with the bowed head proper to the sentiment, so that
two short, tight braids stood ceilingward.

The stifled exclamations of the waiting ten brought her head up once
more. From the vestibule, resplendent in shining satin and billows of
tulle, had appeared a vision. The choir gazed on it in open-mouthed
wonder. "Oh, look! The bride! Mm! Ain't it beautiful!"

Hattie was equal to the occasion. Dropping all the tulle into place, she
walked from bay-window to table and back again, displaying her finery.
"Isn't it pretty?" she agreed. "See the veil. And look!"

Head on one side, the ever-philosophical Dora watched her. And Hattie,
halting, turned once around for the benefit of all observers, but with an
inviting smi