"Good-bye, ladies. I must git back to my work," said Miss Hester.

"Good-bye, good-bye, Miss Hester," came the echo.

The moment the door closed behind her and her charge, there was a volley
of remarks:

"Oh, I do hope she 'll be good to him."

"I wonder how she 'll manage him."

"Pore child, he did n't want to go at all."

"Who 'd have thought it of Miss Hester?"

"I wish I could have kept him myself," said Mrs. Davis, tearfully. "It
hurt my heart to see him cling to me so."

"Never you mind, Melissy Davis; you 've done yore whole dooty as well as
you could."

Mrs. Warren rose and put her shawl over her head preparatory to going.
"As fur my part," she said, "I 'd 'a' ruther seen that child in the
childern's home, devilment or no devilment, than where he is. He won't
dare to breathe from this hour on."

The women were silent for a moment, and then Mrs. Davis said, "Well,
Miss Hester 's well-meanin'."

CHAPTER IV

At the top of the mean street on which Margaret's house was situated,
and looking down upon its meaner neighbours in much the same way that
its mistress looked upon the denizens of the street, stood Miss Prime's
cottage. It was not on the mean street,--it would have disdained to
be,--but sat exactly facing it in prim watchfulness over the unsavoury
thoroughfare which ran at right angles. The cottage was one and a half
stories in height, and the upper half-story had two windows in front
that looked out like a pair of accusing eyes. It was painted a dull lead
colour. In summer the front yard was filled with flowers, hollyhocks,
bachelor's-buttons, sweet-william, and a dozen other varieties of
blooms. But they were planted with such exactness and straightness that
the poor flowers looked cramped and artificial and stiff as a party of
angular ladies dressed in bombazine. Here was no riot nor abandon in
growth. Everything had its place, and stayed therein or was plucked up.

"I jest can't abide to see flowers growin' every which way," Miss Prime
used to remark, "fur all the world like a neighbourhood with different
people's children traipsin' through everybody else's house. Everything
in order, is my motto."

Miss Hester had nearly arrived at her fortieth mile-stone; and she
effected the paradox of looking both younger and older than her age.
Younger, because she had always taken excellent care of herself. Her
form had still much of the roundness of youth, and her step was
sprightly and fi