er
day, it was difficult to yield credence to all the stories that had been
current in regard to her violence of temper and general viciousness.
That was hard work, too, which she was doing; at least it looked hard
for such little bits of hands. First, cutting with those great heavy
shears through the thick, stiff cloth; next, the braiding; and finally,
the sewing together with the huge needle, and coarse, waxed thread.

One afternoon I had been looking at her a little while, and, as what
uncle said about her having never had fair play came into my mind, I
felt a strong compulsion to do her some kindness, however trifling; so I
gathered a few flowers, fragrant and bright, and took them to her
window.

"Rhoda," said I, "shouldn't you like these on your bureau? They will
look pretty there; and only smell how sweet they are. You may have the
vase for your own, if you like."

She took it without a word, looked at it a moment, glancing at me to
make sure she understood, and then rose and placed it on the bureau,
where it showed double, reflected from the looking-glass. She did not
again turn her face towards me till she had spent a brief space in close
communion with a minute handkerchief which she had drawn from her
pocket. Clearly, here was one not much wonted to little kindnesses, and
not insensible to them either.

* * * * *

The visit to Bethel had resulted so well, that Woodstock and Cornish
were unhesitatingly undertaken. Nor was it misplaced confidence on Miss
Stackpole's part. With the slight drawback of having forgotten the whip
on the return from Woodstock, not the shadow of an accident occurred.
Nor was this oversight of much account, only that Tim Linkinwater, the
horse, whose self-will had increased with his years, soon made the
discovery that he for the nonce held the reins of power; and when they
reached Roaring Brook, instead of proceeding decorously across the
bridge, he persisted in descending a somewhat steep bank and fording the
stream. Half-way across, he found the coolness of the water so agreeable
that he decided to enjoy it _ad libitum_. No expostulations nor
chirrupings nor cluckings availed aught. He felt himself master of the
occasion, and would not budge an inch. He looked up stream and down
stream, and now and then sent a sly glance back at Miss Stackpole and
Louise, and now and then splashed the water with his hoofs against the
pebbles. Miss Stackpole's dist