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but to do what I can for some one who has no mother to care for her. I know a girl, who would be just as pretty as any of you, if she had the clothes, but her mother does not think about her, so I mother her some myself.”

      “She must be a lucky girl,” said another.

      “Oh, she loves me,” said Margaret, “and I love her. I want her to look just like you do. Please tell me about your clothes. Are these the dresses and hats you wear to school? What kind of goods are they, and where do you buy them?”

      The girls began to laugh and cluster around Margaret. Wesley strode down the store with his head high through pride in her, but his heart was sore over the memory of two little faces under Brushwood sod. He inquired his way to the shoe department.

      “Why, every one of us have on gingham or linen dresses,” they said, “and they are our school clothes.”

      For a few moments there was a babel of laughing voices explaining to the delighted Margaret that school dresses should be bright and pretty, but simple and plain, and until cold weather they should wash.

      “I'll tell you,” said Ellen Brownlee, “my father owns this store, I know all the clerks. I'll take you to Miss Hartley. You tell her just how much you want to spend, and what you want to buy, and she will know how to get the most for your money. I've heard papa say she was the best clerk in the store for people who didn't know precisely what they wanted.”

      “That's the very thing,” agreed Margaret. “But before you go, tell me about your hair. Elnora's hair is bright and wavy, but yours is silky as hackled flax. How do you do it?”

      “Elnora?” asked four girls in concert.

      “Yes, Elnora is the name of the girl I want these things for.”

      “Did she come to the high school to-day?” questioned one of them.

      “Was she in your classes?” demanded Margaret without reply.

      Four girls stood silent and thought fast. Had there been a strange girl among them, and had she been overlooked and passed by with indifference, because she was so very shabby? If she had appeared as much better than they, as she had looked worse, would her reception have been the same?

      “There was a strange girl from the country in the Freshman class to-day,” said Ellen Brownlee, “and her name was Elnora.”

      “That was the girl,” said Margaret.

      “Are her people so very poor?” questioned Ellen.

      “No, not poor at all, come to think of it,” answered Margaret. “It's a peculiar case. Mrs. Comstock had a great trouble and she let it change her whole life and make a different woman of her. She used to be lovely; now she is forever saving and scared to death for fear they will go to the poorhouse; but there is a big farm, covered with lots of good timber. The taxes are high for women who can't manage to clear and work the land. There ought to be enough to keep two of them in good shape all their lives, if they only knew how to do it. But no one ever told Kate Comstock anything, and never will, for she won't listen. All she does is droop all day, and walk the edge of the swamp half the night, and neglect Elnora. If you girls would make life just a little easier for her it would be the finest thing you ever did.”

      All of them promised they would.

      “Now tell me about your hair,” persisted Margaret Sinton.

      So they took her to a toilet counter, and she bought the proper hair soap, also a nail file, and cold cream, for use after windy days. Then they left her with the experienced clerk, and when at last Wesley found her she was loaded with bundles and the light of other days was in her beautiful eyes. Wesley also carried some packages.

      “Did you get any stockings?” he whispered.

      “No, I didn't,” she said. “I was so interested in dresses and hair ribbons and a—a hat——” she hesitated and glanced at Wesley. “Of course, a hat!” prompted Wesley. “That I forgot all about those horrible shoes. She's got to have decent shoes, Wesley.”

      “Sure!” said Wesley. “She's got decent shoes. But the man said some brown stockings ought to go with them. Take a peep, will you!”

      Wesley opened a box and displayed a pair of thick-soled, beautifully shaped brown walking shoes of low cut. Margaret cried out with pleasure.

      “But do you suppose they are the right size, Wesley? What did you get?”

      “I just said for a girl of sixteen with a slender foot.”

      “Well, that's about as near as I could come. If they don't fit when she tries them, we will drive straight in and change them. Come on now, let's get home.”

      All the way they discussed how they should give Elnora their purchases and what Mrs. Comstock would say.

      “I am afraid she will be awful mad,” said Margaret.

      “She'll just rip!” replied Wesley graphically. “But if she wants to leave the raising of her girl to the neighbours, she needn't get fractious if they take some pride in doing a good job. From now on I calculate Elnora shall go to school; and she shall have all the clothes and books she needs, if I go around on the back of Kate Comstock's land and cut a tree, or drive off a calf to pay for them. Why I know one tree she owns that would put Elnora in heaven for a year. Just think of it, Margaret! It's not fair. One-third of what is there belongs to Elnora by law, and if Kate Comstock raises a row I'll tell her so, and see that the girl gets it. You go to see Kate in the morning, and I'll go with you. Tell her you want Elnora's pattern, that you are going to make her a dress, for helping us. And sort of hint at a few more things. If Kate balks, I'll take a hand and settle her. I'll go to law for Elnora's share of that land and sell enough to educate her.”

      “Why, Wesley Sinton, you're perfectly wild.”

      “I'm not! Did you ever stop to think that such cases are so frequent there have been laws made to provide for them? I can bring it up in court and force Kate to educate Elnora, and board and clothe her till she's of age, and then she can take her share.”

      “Wesley, Kate would go crazy!”

      “She's crazy now. The idea of any mother living with as sweet a girl as Elnora and letting her suffer till I find her crying like a funeral. It makes me fighting mad. All uncalled for. Not a grain of sense in it. I've offered and offered to oversee clearing her land and working her fields. Let her sell a good tree, or a few acres. Something is going to be done, right now. Elnora's been fairly happy up to this, but to spoil the school life she's planned, is to ruin all her life. I won't have it! If Elnora won't take these things, so help me, I'll tell her what she is worth, and loan her the money and she can pay me back when she comes of age. I am going to have it out with Kate Comstock in the morning. Here we are! You open up what you got while I put away the horses, and then I'll show you.”

      When Wesley came from the barn Margaret had four pieces of crisp gingham, a pale blue, a pink, a gray with green stripes and a rich brown and blue plaid. On each of them lay a yard and a half of wide ribbon to match. There were handkerchiefs and a brown leather belt. In her hands she held a wide-brimmed tan straw hat, having a high crown banded with velvet strips each of which fastened with a tiny gold buckle.

      “It looks kind of bare now,” she explained. “It had three quills on it here.”

      “Did you have them taken off?” asked Wesley.

      “Yes, I did. The price was two and a half for the hat, and those things were a dollar and a half apiece. I couldn't pay that.”

      “It does seem considerable,” admitted Wesley, “but will it look right without them?”

      “No, it won't!” said Margaret. “It's going to have quills on it. Do you remember those beautiful peacock wing feathers that Phoebe Simms gave me? Three of them go on just where those came off, and nobody will ever know the difference. They match the hat to a moral, and they are just a little

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