"I can tell you what you'll find
well enough," sniffing disgustedly, "and that is babies, bad smells,
dirt, and scolding. I've been there afore!"

Joyce laughed gaily.

"Give me the story paper, Ellen. I'm going to find all those things,
surely, but more--much more, as you'll see in time," and, snatching the
sheet from her maid's reluctant hand, she was off with a merry look back
at the two, who watched her till she had rounded the corner of the great
building and disappeared.

"It's a queer streak!" muttered Dalton, as he turned back into the
little office room, which had never looked so dim and dingy before. "For
a girl that's rich and handsome----"

"Don't see what there is so queer in being good!" returned Ellen
belligerently. "Just 'cause she's got a heart and sense beyond her years
folks calls her a freak. Of course it cuts, but she only laughs and goes
on just the same's ever. I get so mad, sometimes, I'd like to stomp on
'em, but she just looks at me smiling brave-like, with her lips
twitching a bit, and says, 'Never mind so long's we're surely right,'
and then I can't say a word."

Dalton looked at her reflectively. He was not used to women, and it
struck him, once or twice, that this elderly companion would have liked
to dictate to her young mistress, had the latter allowed it. So, not
feeling quite sure of his ground, he remarked vaguely,

"I suppose a girl like that would be naturally wilful--having everything
heart could wish. But----"

"Well then, I'll let you know she isn't," snapped Miss Dover. "Wilful
indeed!" and seating herself with resentful suddenness she glared at him
till he was glad to bury himself in his books, and try to forget the
excitements of the morning in figures.

CHAPTER V.

AMONG THE COTTAGES.

Joyce, laughing to herself, tripped across the ground occupied by the
works, and, after a hurried glance along the first row of cottages,
selected one at random and making straight for it, knocked with some
trepidation, but no delay. She heard herself announced inside by a
childish voice in descriptive fashion--"Say, ma, it's a girl in swell
clothes--hurry!" and began to question if she were too well dressed,
even in her plain black garb, for her part. Certainly there was an air
about her not common to the traveling agency people, but whether it were
entirely due to her garments may be doubted.

After considerable scurrying about inside, plainly distinguished through
the