deal of
snobbishness and false views of life, they were good-hearted girls
under it all; and some plain common sense they had inherited from
their father came to the surface and taught them to see that Miss
Sally was a relative of whom anyone might be proud. They succumbed to
her charm, as the others had done, and thoroughly enjoyed their visit
to Golden Gate. They went away promising to come often again; and I
may say right here that they kept their promise, and a real friendship
grew up between Miss Sally and "Cousin Abner's girls" that was
destined to work wonders for the latter, not only socially and
mentally but spiritually as well, for it taught them that sincerity
and honest kindliness of heart and manner are the best passports
everywhere, and that pretence of any kind is a vulgarity not to be
tolerated. This took time, of course. The Reed girls could not discard
their snobbishness all at once. But in the end it was pretty well
taken out of them.

Miss Sally never dreamed of this or the need for it. She loved Cousin
Abner's girls from the first and always admired them exceedingly.

"And then it is so good to have your own folks coming as company," she
told the Seymour girls. "Oh, I'm just in the seventh heaven of
happiness. But, dearies, I think you will always be my favourites--mine
and Juliana's. I've plenty of company now and it's all thanks to you."

"Oh, no," said Mary quickly. "Miss Sally, your company comes to you
for just your own sake. You've made Golden Gate a veritable Mecca for
us all. You don't know and you never will know how much good you have
done us. You are so good and true and sweet that we girls all feel as
if we were bound to live up to you, don't you see? And we all love
you, Miss Sally."

"I'm so glad," breathed Miss Sally with shining eyes, "and so is
Juliana."

Mrs. March's Revenge

"I declare, it is a real fall day," said Mrs. Stapp, dropping into a
chair with a sigh of relief as Mrs. March ushered her into the cosy
little sitting-room. "The wind would chill the marrow in your bones;
winter'll be here before you know it."

"That's so," assented Mrs. March, bustling about to stir up the fire.
"But I don't know as I mind it at all. Winter is real pleasant when it
does come, but I must say, I don't fancy these betwixt-and-between
days much. Sit up to the fire, Theodosia. You look real blue."

"I feel so too. Lawful heart, but this is comfort. This chimney-corner
of yours,