s such a
general laugh that the boy's reserve vanished, and--"Richard was
himself again."

Nellie and he became fast friends, and chatted away pleasantly; while
Winnie, after having partaken plentifully of fruit and cake, went to
put on her hat and jacket under Miss Latimer's escort.

"May I come again soon?" she inquired naively, looking round the tiny
room with loving eyes; "this is such a dear little house, and you are
all so kind, I should like to spend an afternoon often here." Winnie
seemed very earnest as she spoke.

"We shall be only too pleased to see you," replied Aunt Judith, smiling
down on the upturned face, and neatly adjusting the tie round the
girl's soft neck. "I love to have young people about me, and it is
good to hear the sound of a blithe young voice."

Those words amply satisfied Winnie, and after many good-nights had been
exchanged, she and Dick drove homewards, bearing with them two of Aunt
Judith's precious volumes.

"I say, Win, that's a jolly little house," said the boy as they rolled
along in the darkness. "What a funny, brisk old lady Aunt Debby is!
Did you notice the way she dodged about, and how her front curls shook
and bobbed a regular jig every time she spoke? She puts me in mind of
a little bird peeping out at you from those small twinkling eyes.
She's a rum old customer, sure enough;" and Dick chuckled at the
remembrance of Miss Deborah's round chubby face and crisp chirping
voice.

"Yes, she is rather queer," assented Winnie musingly; "but I like Miss
Latimer dearly. She is awfully good, Dick; and fancy her being the
author of those books after all. Is it not strange?"

"Slightly, perhaps; but 'truth is stranger than fiction,' my dear
sister.--By-the-by, I did not notice any Quaker fashion in their dress
to-night. Miss Latimer wore some lace fal-lal about her neck, and Aunt
Debby's cap was a regular flower-garden." Dick was a severe critic on
female attire.

"That's quite true," replied Winnie; "but if you saw them in the
street, with their long loose cloaks and huge bonnets, you would speak
differently. O Dick, how happy they all seem! don't they? and how cosy
everything looks! Such a contrast to our great big rooms, where you
feel like a--a--" Winnie stopped short for lack of a simile, and her
brother supplied the missing word,--

"Pelican in the wilderness. That's it, Win; and you're about right.
Love won't make the pot boil; but money can't buy everything,