dn't, when you are
so fond of study."

"Gin'lly go for a spell in the winter," replied Bubble. "They ain't no
school in summer, y' know. Boys hes to work, round here. Mam ain't got
nobody but me 'n Pink, sence father died."

"Who is Pink?" asked Hilda, gently.

"My sister," replied Bubble. "Thet ain't _her_ real name, nuther. Mam
hed her christened Pinkrosia, along o' her bein' so fond o' roses, Mam
was; but we don't call her nothin' only Pink."

"Pink Chirk!" repeated Hilda to herself. "What a name! What can a girl
be like who is called Pink Chirk?"

But now Bubble seemed to think that it was his turn to ask questions. "I
reckon you're the gal that's come to stay at Mr. Hartley's?" he said in
an interrogative tone.

Hilda's brow darkened for a moment at the word "gal," which came with
innocent frankness from the lips of the ragged urchin before her. But
the next moment she remembered that it was only the old Hilda who cared
about such trifles; so she answered pleasantly enough:

"Yes, I am staying at Mr. Hartley's. I only came yesterday, but I am to
stay some time."

"And what mought _your_ name be?" inquired Master Chirk.

"Hildegardis Graham." It was gently said, in a very different voice from
that which had answered Farmer Hartley in the same words the night
before; but it made a startling impression on Bubble Chirk.

"Hildy--" he began; and then, giving it up, he said simply: "Well, I
swan! Do ye kerry all that round with ye all the time?"

Hilda laughed outright at this.

"Oh, no!" she said; "I am called Hilda generally."

"But you kin spell the hull of it?" asked the boy anxiously.

"Yes, certainly!" Bubble's eager look subsided into one of mingled awe
and admiration.

"Reckon ye must know a heap," he said, rather wistfully. "Wish't I did!"

Hilda looked at him for a moment without speaking. Her old self was
whispering to her. "Take care what you do!" it said. "This is a coarse,
common, dirty boy. He smells of the stable; his hair is full of hay; his
hands are beyond description. What have you in common with such a
creature? He has not even the sense to know that he is your inferior."
"I don't care!" said the new Hilda. "I know what mamma would do if she
were here, and I shall do it,--or try to do it, at least. Hold your
tongue, you supercilious minx!"

"Bubble," she said aloud, "would you like me to teach you a little,
while I am here? I think perhaps I could help you with your lessons."