was going
on, and how firm a foundation of scholarship and thoroughness her friend
was laying.

"Whereas I," she said aloud, "am as ignorant as a hedge-sparrow."

As she spoke, a sparrow hopped upon a twig close by her, and cocked his
bright eye at her expressively.

"I beg your pardon!" said Hildegarde, humbly. "No doubt you are right,
and I am a hundred times more ignorant. I could not even imagine how to
build a nest; but neither can you crack a nut--ask Mr. Emerson!--or play
the piano."

The sparrow chirped defiance, flirted his tail saucily, and was gone.

"And all girls cannot be students!" said Hildegarde, stopping to address
a young maple that looked strong-minded. "Everybody cannot go to
college; there must be some who are to be just girls,--plain girls,--and
stay at home. As for a girl going to college when there is only herself
to--to help make a home--why,--she might as well be Nero, and done with
it."

She nodded at the maple-tree, as if she had settled it entirely, and
walked on more quickly; the cloud--it was a slight one, but still a
cloud--vanished from her brow, leaving it clear and sunny.

"The place one is in," she said, "is the place to be happy in. Of course
I do miss them all; of--course--I do! but if ever any girl ought to be
thankful on her knees all day long for blessings and happinesses,
Hildegarde Grahame, why, you know who she is, and that she does not
spell her name Tompkins."

CHAPTER II.

THE CHRISTMAS DRAWER.

CHRISTMAS was coming. Christmas was only three weeks off. Oh, how the
time was flying! "How shall I ever get ready?" cried Hildegarde,
quickening her pace as she spoke, as if the holiday season were chasing
her along the road.

"One is always busy, of course; but it does seem as if I were going to
be about five times as busy as I ever was before. Naturally! there are
so many more people that I want to make presents for. Last Christmas,
there was Mammina, and Col. Ferrers and Hugh, and the box to send to
Jack,--dear Jack!--and Auntie, and Mrs. Lankton and the children,
and,--well, of course, Cousin Wealthy and Benny, and all the dear people
at Bywood,--why, there were a good many, after all, weren't there? But
now I have all my Merryweathers in addition, you see. Of course I
needn't give anything to the boys,--or to any of them, for that
matter,--but I do want to, so very much; if only there were a little
more time! I will go up this minute, if Mammina does no