and Catherine had
definitely decided that Winsted was to have a library, and that they
were to devote their own energies to the cause and persuade as many as
possible of their acquaintances to join them.

"The Boat Club will go in for it as a committee of the whole," said
Algernon.

"The Three R's will be interested," said Catherine, "though it is not
Rest, Recreation or Refreshment!"

"And all the churches."

"And the school teachers."

"And there are Miss Ainsworth's novels."

"Algernon, how perfectly splendid! Do you suppose she would let us have
them?"

"I don't see why not. They simply stand there, never opened. She can't
any more than refuse. I'll ask her."

"And I'll go with you. Let's do it right this minute."

As she spoke, Catherine sprang up, and Algernon, his usual inertia
overcome, plunged down the walk beside her.

"We must find a good place for it, before we get many books collected.
We could use Father's twenty-five dollars for rent, of course, but it
would be so much nicer if some one would give us a room."

"Let me see. There's that little frame shop where the red-haired
milliner used to be. We might get that. It's no good for business, away
off up the street that way."

"Be careful what you say about red hair," warned Catherine. "Who owns
the building?"

"Judge Arthur. He's a public-spirited man. He'll let us have it cheap
anyway."

"Good! O, I am so happy and excited about it I feel like one of Hannah
Eldred's squeals; I'm afraid if she were here I'd join her in one. Here
we are at Miss Ainsworth's. Are you sure we dare ask her?"

Before the prim white house set back from the street, Catherine's
buoyancy suffered a collapse. She had been inside that house, calling,
with her mother, but to go there--or anywhere--on a begging errand! Here
Algernon's long familiarity with rebuffs proved of value.

[Illustration: "'We must find a good place for it.'"--_Page 17._]

"Of course, we dare. Come on, or I'll go alone if you don't want to."

"No, no, I'll come," Catherine answered hastily. She had counted,
without conceit, on her own popularity to offset Algernon's handicap.
The daughter of the Doctors Smith could not be turned coldly away. And
after all, Miss Ainsworth's novels might better be read than standing
idle. Two years ago, a young bicyclist had sprained an ankle at Miss
Ainsworth's door, and she had promptly taken him in and cared for him,
scornfully refusing pay. Therefore th