ftly, "don't cry!"

"Oh--I can't help it!" she mourned. "I've kept up--I thought maybe
I shouldn't have to go; but my eyes have given out, and I can't
earn anything only by sewing--and I can't sew now! To think of me
in the poorhouse!"

"I'll come and sing for you there!" cried the boy impulsively.

"Oh! you wouldn't--would you?" She clutched at the only straw of
hope.

"Of course, I will! I'd be glad to!"

"You're awfully good!" She wiped her eyes.

"I didn't mean to entertain you with tears," she smiled. "Seems as
if I might stop, but I can't." Her eyes were wet again.

A sudden light illumined the lad's face. He opened his lips, then
shut them.

"How soon do you expect to go?" he asked.

"Some time the last of the week, the man thought." She swallowed
hard. "He said he'd give me time to pick up my things--he was real
good."

"I'll see you again before the last of the week," promised Doodles,
putting out his hand.

She clasped it in both of hers.

"You are just a dear--that's what you are!" she said tremulously.
"And you don't know how I thank you! I can't tell you what it has
been to me!"

As the singer passed down the stairs curious eyes peered out at
him; but he did not know it. His heart was full of Miss Lily's
grief, although overspreading it was the beautiful thought that had
come to him so suddenly a moment ago.

CHAPTER VI

"BETTER THAN THE POORHOUSE"

Polly was on the veranda when Doodles came.

"Why, Doodles Stickney! I was just thinking of you! How did you
know I wanted to see you this morning?"

"I didn't," he laughed; "but I wanted to see you'"

"I'm so glad--oh, I forgot! I'm due at the dentist's at ten
o'clock! Maybe I can get off."

"No, no! I couldn't stay till that time anyway. I came down on
business--"

"Dear me!" laughed Polly, "how grand we are this morning!"

"I don't know whether it is 'grand' or not--it depends a good deal
on the president of June Holiday Home. I'll tell you all about
it," dropping into a chair beside Polly.

He related the incidents of the day before, of Miss Lily's meeting
him at the church door, of his singing to her in the afternoon, and
finally of her distress at going to the poorhouse.

"And I happened to think if she could only come to the June Holiday
Home--"

"Lovely!" cried Polly. "I don't see why she can't!"

"Nor I, but somebody may. I thought I'd see you first and maybe
you'd give me a little note of