, by any means, she spoke to them, they looked upon her in
astonishment, without answering her words. They often whispered one to
another, casting curious looks upon her; so she knew easily they spoke
of her. What could it mean? What had she done?

I cannot answer this well. She had a gentle, sweet face; her manners
were neither rude nor obtrusive, and when she spoke, though her tones
were low, half fearful and trembling, still were her words as kind and
polite, if not kinder and politer, than those of the other children.

Poor Susan! and she had thought to be so happy that afternoon; she had
anticipated only kindly faces, and loving glances, and kind hands
stretched out to her in the plays. For once she had thought to mingle
with those pretty children as if they had been her sisters, and, when
she went back to dear Johnny, to tell him of their loving words. But
now--what! could she tell Johnny, to grieve him, of the sad afternoon
she was passing? She looked upon them more closely, trying to find out
what it was that separated her from them. 'Tis true she wore no bright
plaid dress and delicate cloth boots; she wore no bracelets on her arm;
she had not found them in her stocking that morning. There was no
necklace about her neck; her hair was not bright and curling; yet,
still, what could be the reason they shunned her so?

Susan tremblingly looked over her own dress. Her gown was scanty and of
cotton, her pantalets were long and narrow, but they were the best she
had; her mother had made them long ago, and Susan had so carefully
preserved them. On her feet she wore thick leather shoes; but she knew
how the money had been saved, little by little, from week to week, that
they might be bought. If they were thick, it was that they might last
the longer; and her hair was combed smoothly over her brow and braided
on her neck. Her hands, it is true, were not delicate, like theirs--they
were hard and red; but they had become so in working for the home, to
keep it clean, and working early and late, that the mother might not be
detained from her work out, and that the lame, sick brother should have
no little want unsupplied.

And was it that her hands were red and her clothes coarse that the
children shunned her--even, too, before they looked into her little
home, and saw what she did there, how she comforted Johnny, and swept
clean the floor, and even found some time to read out of her books?
Could they, with their bright fr