coarse or
not. Elsie Moss might, and Mr. Middleton. He liked her as she was.
He wouldn't like her to be different. And yet, he not only endured
Mrs. Middleton but actually cared for her, and he was as refined as any
one she had ever known, besides being so much more interesting than any
one except Elsie Moss. Possibly he would rather have her altered
somewhat than have the shock of learning the truth of the matter, and
of having a reluctant, and perhaps unwilling, Elsie Moss in the house.

Elsie Moss, too, liked her as she was. She had called her a princess.
Surely she wouldn't endure any change. And yet again--what if enduring
Mrs. Middleton would mean actually doing something for the other Elsie?
What if not enduring her--flying from difficulty--would mean
disappointment--breaking her ardent heart?

The clock struck nine, and immediately she heard Mr. Middleton enter
the house. He called to her and Elsie went down.

He wanted to tell her of a plan they had been discussing at the meeting
in regard to a course of lectures for the coming winter. All
eagerness, he reviewed the whole situation for her benefit, then went
on to tell her of the lectures they had had in other years, and to
compare those in prospect. Elsie, who was already learning to talk, to
express some of the interest she felt, enjoyed it the more that she was
able to respond in a measure--quite enough to satisfy him completely.

When she went to her room again, it was only to postpone the decision.
To-morrow she would go to see Mattie Howe without knowing whether it
was a farewell call or not. The next day, Sunday, she would decide.
She promised herself solemnly that she would do so. She would shut
herself up in her room directly after dinner, and would not emerge
until she had made up her mind.

CHAPTER XIV

Had Elsie Marley been possessed of more imagination, or had she been
accustomed to use what she had, she might have been better prepared to
meet little Mattie's mother. The child was unusual and showed the
influence of careful upbringing. Further, Mr. Middleton had spoken of
her as looking like a girl and as worth seeking out; and already Elsie
had had a chance to discern that, broad and tolerant as he was, he saw
things as they were (except in the case of his wife), never misstated
and rarely overstated. For all that, she set out on Saturday afternoon
prepared to meet the typical washerwoman of fiction--worn, bedraggled,
s