tears. All this was so unlike anything she had imagined, and now they had gotten into a quarrel the very first thing.

"Let her go, Winnie," said Fannie; "she's always getting into the sulks, and her father's nothing but a music teacher, anyhow. I never could see why you girls liked her so much. I'm sure I never did."

"No!" said Miriam sarcastically, "we can't all be the handsome daughter of a wealthy and celebrated lawyer, more's the pity!"

Winnie's heart sank lower. How she wished she had tried to do right herself, and let the other girls alone! Now Fannie would be angry, too.

But, to her surprise, Fannie laughed outright. "This is too absurd for anything, girls. Here we were just about to sweep the world before us, and now we've had our first quarrel for over a month. As for me, I know I'm proud and vain, and I do like my friends to be rich and distinguished. But papa says it isn't exactly well-bred to choose our friends on such a basis, and he calls my pride silly, and tells me not to be a—well, yes, he does—a snob. But I like to be proud. Perhaps, though, someone else beside myself knows something, and I'll be glad to join, and will try to like it when my toes are stepped on."

"Well," said Miriam, "I'm sure I beg your pardon, if I hurt the toes. But I think your good-nature got the best of it. As for Gretta, you all know she'll sulk just so long, anyhow, and when she gets tired of it, she'll be all right; and if she once gets this thing through her somewhat thick head, she'll want to join, too."

"My! but there's a lot of work before us! Do you know, girls, I actually lay awake for an hour last night, wondering what faults I had, and now, since this squabble, I've seen signs of half a dozen. It's taken all the starch out of me. Don't I look limp?" And Miriam hung her hands and arms so nervelessly and assumed such a vapid expression, that Fannie laughed outright, and Winnie smiled through her tears.

"Well, there's one bad habit that we all have," said she decidedly. "We're always saying, 'in a minute,' or 'by and by,' or 'to-morrow.' I don't believe we'll get angry with each other over that, for it isn't what my father would call 'a personal peculiarity.'" Winnie did like to use big words.

"All right, Winnie, we'll all begin together, and you shall be the captain of our first expedition against the foe."

Winnie went home somewhat comforted, but still quite unhappy about Gretta. She longed to tell her mother all that had happened, but Mrs. Burton was entertaining callers, and she was therefore obliged to restrain her impatience.

On Tuesdays there were fewer recitations for her class than on other days, and, having made good use of her study bells, she was quite through before five o'clock, and concluded to take Ralph out for a walk, so she called her mother to ask permission. Mrs. Burton was quite willing, and said she might also go to the library and change her book. Then she returned to her guests.

Winnie ran to ask Norah if she would help get Ralph ready. She found her in the wooden rocking-chair in the cheerful kitchen, reading the "Commercial Gazette," and "taking it easy," as she called it. Winnie made her request in a very peremptory manner. Norah looked at her a minute, and then said: "So you want me to dress Ralph, do you? Well, I guess that want will have to be your master, for I don't intend to break my back over the wash-tub all day, and, when I'm snatching a moment for rest, be at the beck and call of a sassy little girl." So saying, Norah returned to her newspaper, completely ignoring Winnie's presence.

Winnifred knew that it would be utterly useless to say anything more; besides, she had been reproved by her mother more than once for her way of speaking to Norah. But she was greatly disappointed, for now she would either have to take Ralph dressed as he was, or leave him at home. She finally concluded to do the former, so, hastily getting Ralph and herself into their coats, they were soon in the street car.

Ralph, as usual, had numberless questions to ask. When they reached Fountain Square, they got out, and Winnie, as she invariably did when down town, crossed to the Esplanade to look at the fountain, of which she never wearied. Ralph said he liked to see the little boys and girls sprinkling, and then he must have a drink from the little boy with a shell in his hand.

All this took up time, so that when they reached the public library it was quite late. The delivery room, as usual at that hour, was crowded, and, having handed in her card and list, Winnie sat down on one of the benches to wait till her number was called. This took so long that Ralph became restless and then sleepy, and when they were finally in the car on their way home, he soon closed his eyes. Winnie knew that she would have her hands full if he went to sleep, so she shook him, saying, "Ralphie, Ralphie, don't you know that you mustn't go to sleep?"

"Me isn't s'eepy!" said the little fellow, poking his chubby fingers into his eyes to keep them open; but, finding it quite hard work, after a minute's consideration he added, "But there's somefin in my eyes, 'ough."

"Oh, Ralph, that's the Sandman; you mustn't let him throw sand in your eyes in the street car!"

"No, me 'on't," said Ralph, making a desperate effort.

This little conversation seemed greatly to amuse an old gentleman opposite. He took Ralph on his knee and let him play with his watch, and kindly kept him awake until it was time for the children to get out.

When they reached home they found the family, with the addition of their grandma, Aunt Kitty and Uncle Fred, all at supper, laughing and talking in the happiest manner imaginable. Winnie was delighted. Aunt Kitty was the dearest to her of all her aunts. She was young and gay and good-natured, always ready to join in a frolic, or to help with one's lessons, or to take the children and the children's visitors to the "zoo" or the park or some other place equally delightful.

After supper they went into the sitting-room, and Winnie and Jack played their last duet, which Aunt Kitty complimented quite highly. She said to Mr. Burton, "Winnie does so nicely with her music that I hope you'll allow her to make more of it soon. If she goes to the high-school next year, she'll have more time to practice, won't she?"

"Yes, I think so," interrupted Uncle Fred. "She'll be putting on long dresses, and practicing the airs of a young lady before the glass. But she won't imitate you, Kitty; your ways will be too youthful for her by that time," and he gave Winnie's braid a pull. "Isn't it singular?" he continued meditatively. "Here Winnie will be growing older every year, and Kitty just the reverse. I don't think she'll have another birthday in ten years."

"Most assuredly not, if you'll tell me the way to avoid it. Winnie can have my birthdays and her own, too," laughed Aunt Kitty.

If there was one thing in the world that Winnie resented as an indignity, it was having her ears tweaked, and now she burst out:

"Grandma, do make Uncle Fred stop! I think he ought to have a good scolding."

"Why, he's my baby," said grandma; "you wouldn't have me scold my baby, would you?"

Winnie's expression at the novel idea of teasing Uncle Fred's being anybody's baby was one of such amazement that they all laughed, though Winnie herself hardly appreciated the joke.

"Never mind," said Uncle Fred, slipping a bag of chocolates into her hands as a peace-offering, "you know I must tease someone, and your Aunt Kitty is more invulnerable than Achilles himself, for I think that even her heel was dipped."

"Oh, I have a vulnerable point," laughed Aunt Kitty, though a close observer might have noticed a queer little sober look about her eyes and mouth, "and it is this"—putting one of Winnifred's creams into her mouth: "the