?"

"Ye--yes," said Aunt Victoria, hesitating, not because she doubted the
fact, but because she did not know what use Beth would make of it.

"Then why can't _I_ know him?" Beth asked.

"Oh, be--because Sammy does not live as if he were grateful to the
Lord."

"If he did, would he be a gentleman?" Beth asked.

"Yes," Aunt Victoria answered decidedly.

Beth stopped snipping, and looked at her as if she were looking right
through her, and out into the world beyond. Then she pursed up her
mouth and shook her head.

"That won't hold water," she said. "If a man must live like the Lord
to be a gentleman, what is Uncle James? And if living like the Lord
makes a man a gentleman, why don't we call on old Job Fisher?"

Aunt Victoria began to fear that the task she had undertaken would
prove too much for her. "It is hard, very hard," she muttered.

"Well, never mind," said Beth, resuming her work. "When I grow up I
mean to write about things like that. But what were we talking about?
Oh, beating Sammy. I did feel bad after I beat him, and I vowed I'd
never do it again however tiresome he was, and I never did. It makes
it easier if you vow. It's just as if your hands were tied then. I'd
like to tell mamma to try it, only she'd be sure to get waxy. You tell
her, Aunt Victoria."

Aunt Victoria made some reply which was lost in the noise of vehicles
passing in the street, followed by the tramp of many feet and a great
chattering. An excursion train had just arrived, and the people were
pouring into the place. Beth ran to the window and watched them.

"More confounded trippers," she ejaculated. "They spoil the summer,
swarming everywhere."

"Beth, I wish, to please me, you would make another vow. Don't say
'confounded trippers.'"

"All right, Aunt Victoria. Jim says it. But I know all the bad words in
the language were made for the men. I suppose because they have all the
bad thoughts, and do all the bad things. I shall say 'objectionable
excursionists' in future." She went to the door. "I'm just going to get
something," she said. "You won't go away now, will you? I shall be a
minute or two, but I want you to be here when I come back. I shall be
wild if you're not."

She banged the door after her and ran downstairs.

Aunt Victoria looked round the room; it no longer seemed the same
place to her. Beth's cheerful chatter had already driven away the evil
spirit of dejection, and taken the old lady out of herself. Untid