g her face. "My stars ain't
shinin' much."

The girl kissed him.

"No, honey," she said, "Jinnie's only sad, not sick."

Together they went into the shop, where Peggy stood with the most
gorgeous lacy stuff draped over her arms. Strewn here and there over
the yards and yards of it were bright yellow and red roses. Nothing
could have been more beautiful to the girl, as with widening eyes she
gazed at it. Lafe's face was shining with happiness. Peggy didn't seem
to notice the two as they entered, but she lifted the lace, displaying
its length stolidly.

Jinnie bounded forward.

"What is it, Peg? What is it?"

Lafe beamed through his spectacles.

"A dress for you, girl dear. Peggy's givin' you the things she loves
best. She's the only woman in the world, Jinnie."

Reverently Jinnie went to Mrs. Grandoken's side. She felt abjectly
humble in the presence of this great sacrifice. She looked up into the
glum face of the cobbler's wife and waited in breathless hesitation.
Peg permitted her eyes to fall upon the girl.

"You needn't feel so glad nor look's if you was goin' to tumble over,"
she said. "It ain't no credit to any one them curtains was on the
shelf waitin' to be cut up in a dress for you to fiddle in. Go put the
mush on that there stove!"

CHAPTER XIX

THE LITTLE FIDDLER

Jinnie's heart was skipping about like a silly little kitten as she
sat watching Peg's stiff fingers making large stitches in the lace.

"Oh, Peg, isn't it lovely? Perfectly beautiful! Nobody ever had a
dress like that!... My, Peggy! How your fingers fly!"

Peg's face was noncommittal to the point of blankness.

"Tain't no credit to me what my hands do, Miss Jinnie," she said
querulously. "I didn't make 'em."

The girl's happiness was absolutely complete. The dress would be
finished and Sunday evening----oh, Sunday evening! Then she walked
restlessly to the window and studied the sky.

"I hope it doesn't rain to-morrow!... Oh, Peggy, don't you hope so
too?" Mrs. Grandoken glowered at her.

"Kid," she said, "come away from that window. You been doin' nothin'
but wishin' 'twon't rain all day. You'll wear out the patience of the
Almighty; then he'll make it rain an' soak you through a-purpose."

"I don't know which I like best, Lafe," the girl remarked presently,
turning to the cobbler, "the red roses or the yellow."

Bobbie came to Jinnie's side and fingered the lace.

"Tell me how the dress looks, dear," he whispere