tle kindness done her, and was not unwilling to repay when the
opportunity came. Dorothy and Edna had always stood up for her, and had
brought her the small gifts which children like to take their teachers,
a particularly large and rosy apple, a bunch of flowers, a more
important present at Christmas and a growing plant at Easter. They did
not know much about her home life, for she was not the affable person
Miss Ashurst had been. Uncle Justus had told Edna that she lived with an
invalid sister in quite a different quarter of the city, and that she
had a long way to come to school.

One spring afternoon as Celia and Edna were starting forth, a sudden
shower overtook them. They were going home every day now as they had
done in the early fall, and were hurrying for their train when they saw
Miss Newman just ahead of them without an umbrella. "There's Miss
Newman," said Edna to her sister, "and she has no umbrella; I'm going to
give her mine and come under yours, Celia," then before Celia could say
a word she ran on ahead. "Please take my umbrella, Miss Newman," she
said. "I can go under Celia's."

"But you may need it before Monday," said Miss Newman.

"Oh, no, I won't, for I am going straight home. We are to have a club
meeting at the Evanses this afternoon, or I should not be in such a
hurry."

"And I am in a hurry, too," said Miss Newman, "for I am very anxious to
get home to my sister. Thank you very much for the umbrella. I should
have had to go in somewhere, it is pouring so, and that would have
delayed me."

By this time Celia came up and Edna slipped under her sister's umbrella.
They took their car at the next corner, but they saw Miss Newman
standing on the other side waiting for the car which should come along
somewhat later. "Poor thing," said Edna as she looked from the car
window; "she would have been soaked, Celia, if she had had to stand
there without an umbrella, and she has a cold now."

Celia smiled. "I believe you would love a chimpanzee, or a snake,
Edna."

"I think little green snakes are very pretty," returned Edna calmly.
"Cousin Ben likes them, too. He showed me one in the grass last Sunday.
I felt sorry for it because nearly everybody hates snakes, and Cousin
Ben said this one was perfectly harmless."

"I draw the line at snakes," returned Celia. "I suppose you feel sorry
for Miss Newman."

"Yes, I do; she is so unpretty."

Celia laughed. "That is a delicate way of putting it, I am su