m, she
ran off.

When the children heard Rose's story, they were amazed, that even
Barbara could be so mean, but they all agreed that at any cost the
guinea-fowl must be set free. In a body they went to Susan and told
her so, at the same time handing her the purse. Then they ran off
without waiting to be thanked. Rose only stayed behind. Susan knew
that she must accept the present gladly, just as she would give one
gladly. She was much touched by the kindness of her friends, but she
took the purse as simply as she would have given it.

"Well," said Rose, "shall I go back for the guinea-hen?"

"The guinea-hen!" said Susan, starting from a dream into which she had
fallen as she looked at the purse. "Certainly I do long to see my
pretty guinea-hen once more; but I was not thinking of her just
then--I was thinking of my father."

Now Susan had often that day heard her mother wish that she had but
money enough in the world to pay to the man who was willing to be
trained to fight instead of her husband.

"This, to be sure, will go but a little way," thought Susan; "but
still it may be of some use." She told her thought to Rose, and ended
by saying that if the money was given to her to spend as she pleased,
she would give it to her father.

"It is all yours, my dear, good Susan!" cried Rose. "This is so like
you!--but I'm sorry that Miss Bab must keep your guinea-hen. I would
not be her for all the guinea-hens, or guineas either, in the whole
world. Why, the guinea-hen won't make her happy, and you'll be happy
even without it, because you are good. Let me come and help you
to-morrow," she went on, looking at Susan's work, "if you have any
more mending to do--I never liked work till I worked with you. I won't
forget my thimble or my scissors," she added, laughing--"though I used
to forget them when I was a wilder girl. I assure you I am clever with
my needle now--try me."

Susan told her friend that she would most gladly accept her help, but
that she had finished all the needlework that was wanted at present.
"But do you know," she went on, "I shall be very busy to-morrow. I
won't tell you what it is that I have to do, for I am afraid I shall
not succeed, but if I do succeed, I'll come and tell you directly,
because you will be so glad."

IV

SUSAN VISITS THE ABBEY

Susan, who had always been attentive to what her mother taught her,
and who had often helped her when she was baking bread and cakes for
the