y look."

"I suppose not."

The reply was spoken politely but without conviction.

"An' besides, I had other reasons for gettin' you here," her aunt went on.
"I mentioned 'em in my letter."

"I don't remember the other reasons."

Ellen stared, aghast.

"Why--why--the property," she managed to stammer.

"Oh, that."

The words were uttered with an indifference too genuine to be questioned.

"Yes, the property," repeated Ellen with cutting sarcasm. "Ain't you
interested in money; or have you got so much already that you couldn't
find a use for any more?"

The thrust told. Into the girl's cheek surged a flame of crimson.

"I haven't any money," she returned with dignity. "Dad left me almost
penniless. His illness used up all we had. Nevertheless, I was glad to
spend it for his comfort, and I can earn more when I need it."

"Humph."

"Yes," went on Lucy, raising her chin a trifle higher, "I am perfectly
capable of supporting myself any time I wish to do so."

"Mebbe you'd rather do that than stay here with me," her aunt suggested
derisively.

"Maybe," was the simple retort. "I shall see."

Ellen bit her lip and then for the second time her sense of humor overcame
her.

"I guess there's no doubtin' you're a genuine Webster," she replied
good-humoredly. "I begin to think we shall get on together nicely."

"I hope so."

There was a reservation in the words that nettled Ellen.

"Why shouldn't we?" she persisted.

"I don't know."

"Don't you like your aunt?"

"Not altogether."

The audacity of the reply appealed to the older woman, and her eyes
twinkled. "Not altogether, eh?" she echoed. "Now I'm sorry to hear that
because I like you very much."

Lucy smiled. It was a radiant smile, disclosing prettily formed white
teeth and a lurking dimple.

"That's nice."

"But you ain't a-goin' to return the compliment?"

"Not yet."

It was long since Ellen had been so highly entertained.

"Well," she observed with undiminished amusement, "I've evidently got to
be on my good behavior if I want to keep such an independent young lady as
you in the house."

"Why shouldn't I be independent?"

A few moments before Ellen would have met the challenge with derision; but
now something caused her to restrain the retort that trembled on her
tongue and say instead:

"Of course you've got a right to be independent. The folks that ain't
ought to be made way with."

Her affirmation surprised her. She would not