on the big flat
stone, only this would be a real house with real sprigged china instead of
bits of broken things. Then she fell into a song, one they sang in school,

"Sister, thou wast mild and lovely,
Gentle as the summer breeze,
Pleasant as the air of evening
When it floats among the trees."

But the first words set her to thinking of her own sister, and how little
the song applied to her, and she thought with a sigh how much better it
would have been, how much less bitter, if Kate had been that way and had
lain down to die and they could have laid her away in the little hilly
graveyard under the weeping willows, and felt about her as they did about
the girl for whom that song was written.

The work was done, and Marcia arrayed in one of the simplest of Kate's
afternoon frocks, when the brass knocker sounded through the house,
startling her with its unfamiliar sound.

Breathlessly she hurried downstairs. The crucial moment had come when she
must stand to meet her new relatives alone. With her hand trembling she
opened the door, but there was only one person standing on the stoop, a
girl of about her own age, perhaps a few months younger. Her hair was red,
her face was freckled, and her blue eyes under the red lashes danced with
repressed mischief. Her dress was plain and she wore a calico sunbonnet of
chocolate color.

"Let me in quick before Grandma sees me," she demanded unceremoniously,
entering at once before there was opportunity for invitation. "Grandma
thinks I've gone to the store, so she won't expect me for a little while.
I was jest crazy to see how you looked. I've ben watchin' out o' the
window all the morning, but I couldn't ketch a glimpse of you. When David
came out this morning I thought you'd sure be at the kitchen door to kiss
him good-bye, but you wasn't, and I watched every chance I could get, but
I couldn't see you till you run out in the garden fer corn. Then I saw you
good, fer I was out hangin' up dish towels. You didn't have a sunbonnet
on, so I could see real well. And when I saw how young you was I made up
my mind I'd get acquainted in spite of Grandma. You don't mind my comin'
over this way without bein' dressed up, do you? There wouldn't be any way
to get here without Grandma seeing me, you know, if I put on my Sunday
clo'es."

"I'm glad you came!" said Marcia impulsively, feeling a rush of something
like tears in her throat a