roke her neck tumbling down the cellar stairs, in her eagerness
to see that Mrs. Shaw's wine was rightly stored, she felt that she was
only paying her debts, and told Tom she liked it, when he picked her up
looking as grimy as a chimney-sweep.

"You can turn your hand to anything, you clever girl, so do come and
give me some advice, for I am in the depths of despair," said Fanny when
the "maid-of-all-work" as Polly called herself, found a leisure hour.

"What is it? Moths in the furs, a smoky chimney, or small-pox next
door?" asked Polly, as they entered Fan's room, where Maud was trying on
old bonnets before the looking-glass.

"Actually I have nothing to wear," began Fan impressively; "I 've been
too busy to think or care till now, but here it is nearly May and I have
hardly a decent rag to my back. Usually, you know, I just go to Mrs.
O'Grady and tell her what I want; she makes my spring wardrobe, Papa
pays the bill, and there I am. Now I 've looked into the matter, and I
declare to you, Polly, I 'm frightened to see how much it costs to dress
me."

"Not so much as some girls I know," said Polly encouragingly.

"Perhaps not, for I have a conscience, and taste is economy sometimes;
but really, Polly, I have n't the heart to ask Papa for a cent just
now, and yet I must have clothes. You are such a genius for planning and
working wonders, that I throw myself upon you and ask, 'How shall I make
a spring wardrobe out of nothing?'"

"Let me see the 'nothing' before I advise. Bring out every rag you 've
got, and we 'll see what can be done," said Polly, looking as if she
enjoyed the prospect, for she had a great deal of that feminine faculty
which we call "knack," and much practice had increased it.

Fanny brought out her "rags" and was astonished to see how many she had,
for chair, sofa, bed, and bureau were covered, and still Maud, who was
burrowing in the closets, kept crying, "Here 's another."

"There 's a discouraging heap of rubbish for you!" said Fan, as she
added a faded muslin to the last pile.

"Now, to me your 'rubbish' looks very encouraging, because there is good
material there, and not much worn-out finery, that 's my detestation,
for you can't do anything with it. Let me see, five bonnets. Put the
winter ones away till autumn, rip up the summer ones, and out of three
old ones we 'll get a pretty new one, if my eyes don't deceive me."

"I 'll rip, and then do let me see you make a bonnet, it must be