, and you must feel strange, coming so far away from home. Poor
little mite!" The child looked so small and slight, standing with her
dress off, and her thin shoulders sticking out like wings, that Margaret
felt a sudden thrill of compassion, and stooping, kissed the freckled
cheek warmly. The colour came into the child's face, but she stood like
a stock, never moving a muscle, never raising her eyes to take note of
the pretty, tasteful arrangements to which Margaret had given such
thought and pains. But the undressing went on, and presently she was in
her little nightgown, with her hair unbraided and smoothly brushed. She
might be pretty, Margaret decided, when she filled out a little, and had
a pleasanter expression. She was so little! Surely there must be one
more effort, this first night.

"Shall I hear you say your prayers, dear?" asked Margaret, taking the
child's two hands in hers. Susan D. shook her head resolutely.

"No? You like better to say them by yourself? Then I will come back in a
few minutes, and tuck you up in your little nest."

The child gave no sign; and when Margaret came back, she was standing in
the same spot, in the same position. She got into bed obediently, and
made no resistance when Margaret tucked the bedclothes in, patted her
shoulder, and gave her a last good-night kiss. She might as well have
kissed the pillow for any response there was, but at least there had
been no shrinking this time. "Good night, Susan D.," said Margaret,
cheerfully, pausing at the door. "Good night, dear! Susan, I think you
must answer when you are spoken to."

"Good night!" said Susan D. Margaret shut the door softly and went away.
As she passed along the corridor that ran round the hall, something
struck her forehead lightly. She looked up, and narrowly escaped getting
a fish-hook in her eye. Merton looked over the banisters, and smiled
appealingly. "I was fishin'," he said. "There's fish-lines in the
drawers of the sofa. I guess I 'most caught a whale, didn't I?"

"Merton, you must go to bed at once!" said Margaret. "How long have you
been standing there in your nightgown? You might catch your death." (It
had been one of old Katy's maxims that if you stood about in your
nightgown for however short a time, you inevitably got your death.
Margaret had never doubted it till this moment.) "I am coming up now to
tuck you both up!" she added, with a happy inspiration.

There was a hasty scuffle, then a rush, accom