and fell in the dust. He was evidently lame and
stiff with rheumatism, so I picked them up for him. He was a beautiful
old man, with a most courtly manner; and he seemed to think as I had
helped him, I was entitled to know about the books. We walked along
together, and he explained they were some he had found at a
second-hand store. One of them was a first edition of the 'Essays of
Elia' which he thought a tremendous bargain; and it was, I'm sure.

"We fell to discussing books, and he seemed delighted to find I was
not absolutely ignorant and ended by inviting me in to see his
library. He lives in the house that needs paint so badly,--where you
have noticed that beautiful Ginkgo tree."

"Did you accept his invitation?"

"No, I told him I had not time just then. He asked if I lived near;
and, Marion, you should have seen his puzzled look when I said, 'On
the corner of Pleasant Street.' 'You are visiting?--the Wilburs,
perhaps.' he said. 'No,' I answered, 'I am one of the proprietors of
the shop.' He was terribly shocked and disappointed, I could see. I
had really made an impression. He grew a little distant, but was still
charming, thanking me again for my kindness; however, he said no more
about the library."

"It is funny--" began Marion, but she did not finish her sentence, and
they sat in silence for a while. Presently Marion took possession of
the hand that was touching her hair so lightly, and laid her cheek
against it. Not many people, she thought, had such a friend. One who
had been everything in a time of need, who had given her new hope and
courage in an hour of darkness. She felt herself unworthy, because she
did not believe she could ever be such a help to any one.

"Do you remember, when you were a child, Norah, how sometimes when you
had found some delightful game that stirred your imagination, you
would go to sleep at night with the most blissful sense of waking up
to go on with it in the morning? I have had much the same feeling
lately."

"Then I am satisfied about you. 'As little children' is the key to the
best things of life, I firmly believe. Let's read a bit of 'The Golden
Age' before we go to bed," said Norah.

CHAPTER TENTH

ALEXINA

Alexina Russell longed to be of use in the world. It fretted her to
live as they did, pensioners on her grandfather, whose fortune had
sadly dwindled of late years. Her mother's income was barely
sufficient to clothe the three of them, and Alex felt