of interest.

"The more the better!" Gloria said. "We're good for any number of 'em,
aren't we, auntie?"

And dear, patient Aunt Em smiled splendidly, and saw the longed-for
arrival home pushed farther away. Gloria was innocently selfish; she
could not have comprehended easily how anyone could help enjoying this
pleasant dallying from place to place.

The trip finally ended several weeks later than was originally planned.
The District Nurse's vacation was dimmed by the many days of hard work
that had succeeded it; by this time it was more a beautiful memory than
a reality. She must have dreamed of sitting lazily rocking, shut in by a
circle of blue hills! So many things can happen to a person in a matter
even of days--when the person is a busy District Nurse, with a city to
take care of.

Gloria, back in her favorite piazza-chair, surveyed the world with
rested vision. Very soon she would take up her adopted worries about
barren streets and rickety houses, but for the moment she would rock and
smooth Abou Ben Adhem's beautiful back.

"You've been lonesome, Old Handsome--needn't tell me! I don't believe
you purred a note while I was gone. And I never missed you, sir!" She
pulled the low, far-set ears gently. "There was a lovely cat at the
hotel," she added with deliberate malice. "_He_ purred grand operas."
But in her lap the great cat sat unjealously. Gloria's gaze wandered
across the street. She wished she knew which was the District Nurse's
window. "I'd wave you at it, Abou Ben, just to show her I've got home
--but there, she may be district-visiting, and you'd be wasted. We'll
watch for her."

[Illustration: "I'd wave you at it, Abou-Ben."]

At that very moment the District Nurse was in Rose's room helping to
cut out a tiny calico dress. Rose herself was running little sleeves
together in a motherly way.

"Tell me some more," she pleaded. "Is she pretty? Does she do up her
hair? What kind of eyes has she?"

"One at a time! You take my breath away," laughed Miss Winship over her
calico breadths. "Yes, she is pretty--I think you will say so. Her hair?
I'm sure I don't know what kind of hair she has. Now you may begin
again, my dear."

But Rose's eyes were wistfully musing. They were beautiful eyes, but the
rest of Rose, oh, how pinched and meager!

"I kind of thought," Rose said, "I didn't know but--there now, the
idea! Of course I don't want her to be like me!" Rose's voice quivered.
"I'd be ashamed o