"

"I can graduate next year," Maria replied, with pride. This last year
she had been taking enormous strides, which had placed her ahead of
her class. "At least, I can if I work hard," she added.

"I don't want you to work too hard," Harry said, anxiously.

"I am perfectly well," said Maria. And she did in reality look
entirely well, in spite of her thinness and expression of premature
maturity. There was a wiriness about her every movement which argued,
if not actual robustness, the elasticity of bending and not breaking
before the stresses of life.

"Let me see, you will be pretty young to teach, then," said Harry.

"I think I can get a school," Maria said.

"Where?"

"Aunt Maria said she thought I could get that little school near her
in Amity. The teacher is engaged, and she said she thought she would
get married before so very long. She said she thought she must have
almost enough money for her wedding outfit. That is what she has been
working for."

Harry smiled a little.

"Aunt Maria said she was to marry a man with means, and she was
working quite a while in order to buy a nice trousseau," said Maria.
"Aunt Maria said she was a very high-spirited young lady. But she
said she thought she had been engaged so long that she would probably
not wait more than a year longer, and she could get the school for
me. Uncle Henry is one of the committee, you know."

"You are pretty young to begin teaching," Harry said, thoughtfully.

"Aunt Maria said she thought I did not look as young as I really was,
and there wouldn't be any difficulty about it," said Maria. "She said
she thought I would have good government, and Uncle Henry thought so,
too, and Aunt Eunice."

Aunt Eunice was Maria's Uncle Henry's wife. Maria had paid a visit to
Amity the summer before, renewing her acquaintance with her relatives.

"Well, we will see," said Harry, after a pause. Then he added,
somewhat pitifully: "Father wishes there was no need for his little
girl to work. He wishes he had been able to put more by, but if--"

Maria looked at her father with quick concern.

"Father, what is the matter with you?" she asked. "I don't care about
the working part. I want to work. I shall like to go to Amity, and
board with Aunt Maria, and teach, except for leaving you and Evelyn,
but--what is the matter with you, father?"

"Nothing is the matter. Why?" asked Harry; and he tried to smile.

"What made you speak so, father?"

Maria had sp