nter," she thought, "while
their own flesh and blood go almost naked."

She entered the room in which the flowers were, a great bunch of pink
carnations in a tall, green vase. The room was charming. It was not
only luxurious, but gave evidences of superior qualities in its
owners. It was empty when Maria entered, but soon Mrs. Ramsey and her
son came in. Maria recognized with a start her old acquaintance, or
rather she did not recognize him. She would not have known him at all
had she not seen him in his home. She had not seen him before, for he
had been away ever since she had come to Amity. He had been West on
business for his bank. Now he at once stepped forward and spoke to
her.

"You are my old friend, Miss Edgham, I think," he said. "Allow me to
present my mother."

Maria bowed perforce before the very gentle little lady in a soft
lavender cashmere, with her neck swathed in laces, but she did not
accept the offered seat, and she utterly disregarded the glance of
astonishment which both mother and son gave at her uncovered
shoulders and head. Maria's impetuosity had come to her from two
sides. When it was in flood, so to speak, nothing could stop it.

"No, thank you, I can't sit down," she said. "I came on an errand.
You are related, I believe, to the other Ramseys. The children go to
my school. There are Mamie and Franky and Jessy."

"We are very distantly related, and, on the whole, proud of the
distance rather than the relationship," said George Ramsey, with a
laugh.

Then Maria turned fiercely upon him. "You ought to be ashamed of
yourself," said she.

The young man stared at her.

Maria persisted. "Yes, you ought," she said. "I don't care how
distant the relationship is, the same blood is in your veins, and you
bear the same name."

"Why, what is the matter?" asked George Ramsey, still in a puzzled,
amused voice.

Maria spoke out. "That poor little Jessy Ramsey," said she, "and she
is the prettiest and brightest scholar I have, too, came to school
to-day without a single stitch of clothing under her dress. It is a
wonder she didn't die. I don't know but she will die, and if she does
it will be your fault."

George Ramsey's face suddenly sobered; his mother's flushed. She
looked at him, then at Maria, almost with fright. She felt really
afraid of this forcible girl, who was so very angry and so very
pretty in her anger. Maria had never looked prettier than she did
then, with her cheeks burning