orie, after a hard day's work of helping her mother
and Juanita in the yearly pickling, it seemed a very haven of rest and
comfort. Miss Graham herself, in a pretty pink wrapper, was lying on the
sofa, while Undine read aloud to her. She was a very different Undine
from the pale, timid girl of two months before. The thin cheeks had
filled out wonderfully, and the big brown eyes had almost entirely lost
their expression of frightened bewilderment, for Undine had found her
place in the household and was happy. I have my doubts as to whether
Undine would have proved of great use in the kitchen, her knowledge of
any kind of housework being decidedly limited, but before she had been
in her new home a fortnight Miss Graham was taken ill. It was not a
serious illness, though a tedious and painful one, and almost from the
first moment Undine had established herself as nurse. Her devotion was
touching; it was with difficulty that she could be persuaded to leave
the invalid's bedside even for the necessary rest and exercise, and she
would gladly have worked night and day in the service of gentle Miss
Graham, who almost unconsciously grew to love the girl, and to depend
upon her more than she would have believed possible in so short a time.

Now Miss Graham was better, and the task of nursing was almost at an
end, but she was still weak, and Mr. and Mrs. Graham were thankful for
the willing service of the girl whom they had taken into their home on
account of her friendless condition and her big honest brown eyes.

"You don't know what you two people have been spared to-day," continued
Marjorie, throwing herself wearily into the rocking-chair. "Thank
goodness, they're all done, and we shall have pickles enough to last
another year."

"We haven't been spared the smell," said Miss Graham, laughing. "I
really felt at one time to-day that I would gladly forego pickles for
the rest of my life."

"What have you been reading?" Marjorie inquired, with a glance at the
book Undine had put down on her entrance.

"'Lorna Doone.' We have had a delightful afternoon. It is such a
charming story, and Undine reads aloud remarkably well."

Marjorie glanced out of the window, at the brilliant autumn sunshine.

"I think I'll go for a ride, to get the smell of the pickles out of my
nostrils," she said. "Mother says she won't need me any more to-day."

"That's a good idea," said Miss Graham approvingly, "and suppose you
take Undine with you? Sh