hought you would help me dish
it up."

"I'm that stupid and awkward," said the girl, "that I should spill it
and spoil it for you. If they'd let me go to a place I might learn to
do better."

"Who would take her?" Mrs. Mitchell appealed to her sister; "and she
ought to help her own people before wanting to go out among
strangers."

"Yes, of course," replied Mrs. Rowles. "Everything is like charity,
and begins at home."

By this time the unwonted prospect of a really hearty dinner began to
soften the stern Juliet, and her brows unknitted themselves, showing
that her eyes would be pretty if they wore a pleasant expression. It
seemed to Mrs. Rowles that life had latterly been too hard and sad for
this girl, just beginning to grow out of the easy ignorance of
childhood which takes everything as it comes; and a little plan began
to form itself in the good woman's mind for improving Juliet's
disposition and habits.

Before the dinner was ready there was a loud noise of feet tramping
upstairs. They were the feet of five more young Mitchells; and Amy's
footsteps were very heavy, for she carried the baby. Albert, who was
in the printing-office, did not come home to dinner.

Though the plates and knives and forks were all out of order, and
though an old newspaper acted as tablecloth, yet the meal was
thoroughly enjoyed; even Mitchell ate some of the beans, with a boiled
egg, and said that they put new life into him. Mrs. Rowles's own
appetite was satisfied with a slice of cake and the brightening faces
around her.

Mrs. Mitchell gave a contemptuous glance at the mantle hanging on a
nail in the wall, and took the baby on her knee and danced him about;
and the little fellow burst into a chuckling laugh, and Thomas echoed
it with a fainter and feebler one.

At that precise moment there was a knock on the door. A voice said
"May I come in?" and a little elderly lady put her head into the
room.

CHAPTER III.

JULIET MITCHELL.

"It is Miss Sutton. Come in, miss," said Mary Mitchell.

The lady who came in was, in Mrs. Rowles's eyes, exactly like a mouse.
Her eyes were bright, her nose was sharp, and her clothing was all of
a soft grayish-brown. And she was as quick and brisk as one of those
pretty little animals, at which silly people often think they are
frightened.

"Nearly two o'clock, Mrs. Mitchell. Now, if you can get the children
off to school, I have something important to say to you, and only ten
min