oothing lengths of snowy lawn on the long
table.

"These are your dresses, girls," said the matron. "Let Miss Curry get
the len'ths and neck measures. And look, here's the embroidery I got.
Won't that make up pretty? The waists will be all insertion, pretty
near."

"Me, too?" said Marg'ret Hammond, catching a rapturous breath.

"You, too," answered Mrs. Costello in her most matter-of-fact tone.
"You see, you three will be the very centre of the group, and it'll
look very nice, your all being dressed the same--why, Marg'ret, dear!"
she broke off suddenly. For Marg'ret, standing beside her chair, had
dropped her head on Mrs. Costello's shoulder and was crying.

"I worried so about my dress," said she, shakily, wiping her eyes on
the soft sleeve of Mrs. Costello's shirt-waist; when a great deal of
patting, and much smothering from the arms of Teresa and Alanna had
almost restored her equilibrium, "and Joe worried too! I couldn't write
and bother my father. And only this morning I was thinking that I might
have to write and tell Sister Rose that I couldn't be in the
exhibition, after all!"

"Well, there, now, you silly girl! You see how much good worrying
does," said Mrs. Costello, but her own eyes were wet.

"The worst of it was," said Marg'ret, red-cheeked, but brave, "that I
didn't want any one to think my father wouldn't give it to me. For you
know"--the generous little explanation tugged at Mrs. Costello's
heart--"you know he would if he COULD!"

"Well, of course he would!" assented that lady, giving the loyal little
daughter a kiss before the delightful business of fitting and measuring
began. The new dresses promised to be the prettiest of their kind, and
harmony and happiness reigned in the sewing-room.

But it was only a day later that Teresa and Alanna returned from school
with faces filled with expressions of utter woe. Indignant, protesting,
tearful, they burst forth the instant they reached their mother's
sympathetic presence with the bitter tale of the day's happenings.
Marg'ret Hammond's father had come home again, it appeared, and he was
awfully, awfully cross with Marg'ret and Joe. They weren't to come to
the Costellos' any more, or he'd whip them. And Marg'ret had been
crying, and THEY had been crying, and Sister didn't know what was the
matter, and they couldn't tell her, and the rehearsal was no FUN!

While their feeling was still at its height, Dan and Jimmy came in,
equally roused by their e