yed and never once asked for Solomon.

Aunt Priscilla began to fold the gown. It still had a crackle and
rustle delightful to hear. And there was a roll of new pieces.

"Why, next summer I could have a lovely drawn bonnet--only it _does_
cost so much to have one made. I wish I knew how," said Betty.

"I suppose--you don't want to see my old thing?" rather contemptuously.

"The hat, do you mean? Oh, I just should! I've thought so much about it,
and how queer it is that old-fashioned articles should come round."

"Every seven years, people say; but I don't believe it's quite as often
as that."

From the careful way it was pinned up, one would never imagine it had
been out that very morning. The bows were filled with paper to keep them
up, and bits of paper crumpled up around, so they could not be crushed.
Its days of whiteness were over, but it was the loveliest, softest cream
tint, and looked as if it had just come over from France. The beaver was
almost like plush, and the puffed satin lining inside was as fresh as if
its reverse plaits had just been laid in place.

"Oh, do put it on!" cried Doris eagerly.

Betty held the strings together under her fair round chin.

"You look like a queen!" said the child admiringly.

"Why it _is_ just as they are wearing them now, the tip-top style.
'Lecty couldn't have described this hat any better if she had seen it.
And if I can have it, Aunt Priscilla, I shall not care a bit about
feathers. It's beautiful enough without."

"Yes, yes, take them all and have a good time with them. Now you see if
you can pack it up--you'll have to learn."

Aunt Priscilla dropped into her chair. She had cast out her life's
temptations, and it had been a great struggle.

"Not that way--make the bow stand up. The bandbox is large enough. And
give the strings a loose fold, so. Now put that white paper over. It's
like making a gambrel roof. Then bring up the ends of the towel and pin
them. Polly shall go along and carry it home for you."

"I'm a thousand times obliged. I wish I knew what to do in return."

"Have a good time, but don't forget that a good time is not all to life.
Child--why do you look at me so?" for Doris had come close to Aunt
Priscilla and seemed studying her.

"Were you ever a little girl, and what was your good time like?"

Doris' wondering eyes were soft and seemed more pitying than curious.

"No, I never was a little girl. There were no little girls in my time."
Sh