he trees
and vines with caressing hands, feeling that she might soon have to
leave them.

She loved them all so dearly,--every stick and stone, and even the
stubby old snowball bushes that never bloomed.

Her dresses were outgrown and faded, but no one had any time or thought
to spend on getting her new ones. A little hole began to come in the toe
of each shoe.

She was still wearing her summer sunbonnet, although the days were
getting frosty.

She was a proud little thing. It mortified her for any one to see her
looking so shabby. Still she uttered no word of complaint, for fear of
lessening the little amount in the pocketbook that her mother had said
stood between them and the poorhouse.

She sat with her feet tucked under her when any one called.

"I wouldn't mind bein' a little beggah so much myself," she thought,
"but I jus' can't have my bu'ful sweet mothah lookin' like that awful
red-eyed woman."

One day the doctor called Mrs. Sherman out into the hall. "I have just
come from your father's," he said. "He is suffering from a severe attack
of rheumatism. He is confined to his room, and is positively starving
for company. He told me he would give anything in the world to have his
little grandchild with him. There were tears in his eyes when he said
it, and that means a good deal from him. He fairly idolizes her. The
servants have told him she mopes around and is getting thin and pale. He
is afraid she will come down with the fever, too. He told me to use any
stratagem I liked to get her there. But I think it's better to tell you
frankly how matters stand. It will do the child good to have a change,
Elizabeth, and I solemnly think you ought to let her go, for a week at
least."

"But, doctor, she has never been away from me a single night in her
life. She'd die of homesickness, and I know she'll never consent to
leave me. Then suppose Jack should get worse--"

"We'll suppose nothing of the kind," he interrupted, brusquely. "Tell
Becky to pack up her things. Leave Lloyd to me. I'll get her consent
without any trouble."

"Come, Colonel," he called, as he left the house. "I'm going to take you
a little ride."

No one ever knew what the kind old fellow said to her to induce her to
go to her grandfather's.

She came back from her ride looking brighter than she had in a long
time. She felt that in some way, although in what way she could not
understand, her going would help them to escape the dreaded poorh