o. How
much her friend knew, how at home she was in this big world! what a
plain little piece of ignorance was she herself beside her. Well,
thought Lois--every one to his place! My place is Shampuashuh. I
suppose I am fitted for that.

"Miss Lothrop," said their entertainer here, "will you allow me to give
you some grapes?"

"Grapes in March!" said Lois, smiling, as a beautiful white bunch was
laid before her. "People who live in New York can have everything, it
seems, that they want."

"Provided they can pay for it," Mrs. Wishart put in.

"How is it in your part of the world?" said Mr. Dillwyn. "You cannot
have what you want?"

"Depends upon what order you keep your wishes in," said Lois. "You can
have strawberries in June--and grapes in September."

"What order do you keep your wishes in?" was the next question.

"I think it best to have as few as possible."

"But that would reduce life to a mere framework of life,--if one had no
wishes!"

"One can find something else to fill it up," said Lois.

"Pray what would you substitute? For with wishes I connect the
accomplishment of wishes."

"Are they always connected?"

"Not always; but generally, the one are the means to the other."

"I believe I do not find it so."

"Then, pardon me, what would you substitute, Miss Lothrop, to fill up
your life, and not have it a bare existence?"

"There is always work--" said Lois shyly; "and there are the pleasures
that come without being wished for. I mean, without being particularly
sought and expected."

"Does much come that way?" asked their entertainer, with an incredulous
smile of mockery.

"O, a great deal!" cried Lois; and then she checked herself.

"This is a very interesting investigation, Mrs. Wishart," said the
gentleman. "Do you think I may presume upon Miss Lothrop's good nature,
and carry it further?"

"Miss Lothrop's good nature is a commodity I never knew yet to fail."

"Then I will go on, for I am curious to know, with an honest desire to
enlarge my circle of knowledge. Will you tell me, Miss Lothrop, what
are the pleasures in your mind when you speak of their coming unsought?"

Lois tried to draw back. "I do not believe you would understand them,"
she said a little shyly.

"I trust you do my understanding less than justice!"

"No," said Lois, blushing, "for your enjoyments are in another line."

"Please indulge me, and tell me the line of yours."

He is laughing at me, thought Lois. A