e kitchen the shoemaker was smiling; and it seemed
to Faith that he stood more erect, and did not look so much like the
picture of the orang-outang.

"Louise, Mrs. Scott and I have been making a bargain," he said. "I am
going to make shoes for her boys, and she is going to make dresses for
my girl. Exchange work; I believe that's right, isn't it, ma'am?" and
he turned to Mrs. Scott with a little bow.

"Yes, it is quite right. And I'll send you the bill for materials,"
said Aunt Prissy.

"Of course. Well, Louise, I warrant you're old enough to have proper
dresses. And Mrs. Scott will take you home to stay with her until you
are all fixed up as fine as this little maid," and the shoemaker
nodded to Faith.

"Do you mean I'm to stay up there?" asked Louise, pointing in the
direction of the Scotts' house. "I can't. Who'd take care of you,
father?"

Mr. Trent seemed to stand very straight indeed as Louise spoke, and
Faith was ashamed that she had ever thought he resembled the ugly
picture in her mother's book.

"She's a good child," he said as if whispering to himself; but he
easily convinced Louise that, for a few days, he could manage to take
care of himself; and at last Louise, happy and excited over this
change in her fortunes, hobbled off beside Mrs. Scott and Faith, while
her father stood in the shop doorway looking after them.

It was a very differently dressed little daughter who returned to him
at the end of the following week. She wore a neat brown wool dress,
with a collar and cuffs of scarlet cloth, a cape of brown, and a cap
of brown with a scarlet wing on one side. These, with her well-made,
well-fitting shoes, made Louise a very trim little figure in spite of
her lameness. Her hair, well brushed and neatly braided, was tied
back with a scarlet ribbon. A bundle containing underwear, aprons,
handkerchiefs, and hair ribbons of various colors, as well as a stout
cotton dress for Louise to wear indoors, arrived at the shoemaker's
house with the little girl.

Her father looked at her in amazement. "Why, Flibbertigibbet, you are
a pretty girl," he declared, and was even more amazed at the gay laugh
with which Louise answered him.

"I've learned a lot of things, father! I can make a cake, truly I can.
And I'm learning to read. I'm so glad Faith Carew is going to live in
Ticonderoga. Aren't you, father?"

Mr. Trent looked at his daughter again, and answered slowly: "Why,
yes, Flibbertigibbet, I believe I a