ing which for him transmuted the whole into pure gold.

Well, for her part, she could stand it another day for the sake of
going to the library.

"What are you going to do this morning, Elsie?" Mr. Middleton inquired
as they returned to the house after a few minutes spent in the garden.

Elsie colored faintly.

"Write some letters," she said.

Indeed, she spent the whole morning in the attempt, though she
accomplished nothing. She made half a dozen beginnings of the letter
which was to set forth the scheme Elsie Moss had concocted and she had
entered into; but none went further than three sentences, and it began
to seem that that expedient were the more difficult. In any event,
before she made a seventh trial she turned to the note that was to
acquaint Elsie Moss with the situation. Here, she only failed the more
dismally. When it was time to dress for lunch, she seemed to be forced
to explain to Mr. Middleton just as she was leaving, and to come upon
poor Elsie Moss quite unexpectedly. It seemed as if it would almost
kill her to do either.

Mrs. Middleton did not appear at lunch and everything was so pleasant
that Elsie's spirits rose until she was almost gay. She talked more
than she had done since she came--almost more than she had ever done
before until she met Elsie Moss--and she was at once gratified and
appalled to perceive that she was reminding Mr. Middleton of his
sister. Of course, his real niece would remind him still more, but
Elsie knew that the wrench to his feelings before she should be
established in the parsonage would be severe, even terrible. If only
Mrs. Middleton kept her room continually! And yet, he might not like
that.

The library was only the more engaging that day. Mattie Howe came in
early and they went through a number of shelves in the children's
department together in selecting her book. Then Elsie took the little
girl in her lap--in a curiously easy fashion--and they looked at the
colored pictures in a large book that did not circulate until some one
else came in and claimed the librarian's attention.

A roguish-looking boy with a tousled head entered, stared at Elsie in
amazement, and went abruptly out. Returning a little later with
shining face and wet, parted hair, as he asked at the desk for a book,
he spread out a pair of very clean hands in a manner intended to be
nonchalant. He was ready and eager to talk and very amusing. Before
Elsie got through with him,