lor and the white and blue of her little garments she looked like a
cherub smiling out of the canvas of a German painter,--the soft
companion of an older and more pensive grace. Hannah watched her
tenderly.

"Now come, Mary, we go to bed," she said.

"I guess I'd make such a fuss with that child and sit with her nights!"
Calista thought, her prominent hazel eyes following in rather a catlike
fashion. They followed in the same way more than once during the next
few weeks. She would brush the little girl's hair when Hannah was busy,
or call her to a meal, but at other times she passed her by. At first
Mary was inclined to pursue the pretty stranger, and on the second
evening she ran up to her to show the results of the egg-hunting, but
she never did it again.

She was the only one whom Calista failed to please. The neighbors who
came to visit soon returned, and on Saturday night there were three
carriages at the gate and three young men in the parlor. Conrad did not
pay much attention to her, but one day he told her that one of her
admirers was "not such a man that you ought to go riding with," and she
said: "All right. It was two asked me to go to-night. I take the other
one." She went through the work singing, and Hannah sat on the porch
more than usual, and began to wonder how she had gotten on so long
alone.

Calista had been there only a few weeks when Hannah said at supper one
evening: "I guess I go to see your aunt Sarah, Conrad. It's six years
since I went. I couldn't leave the work before, but now Calista gets
along so good I can go a little."

"Just do it," said Calista, heartily. "Mary and I can keep house."

The child smiled and made a timid movement.

"All right," Conrad said. "I take you to the stage any time."

Mary cried when Hannah went, and the old woman was distressed. "I feel
bad to leave her," she said. "I would take her along if I had time to
get her ready."

"Ach, go on!" Calista said, laughing. "There is Conrad now with the
team. Mary will have good times. She can stem the cherries this
morning." She picked up the little girl and held her out to kiss her
aunt. "Don't you worry," she called, as the carriage started.

She came out on the back porch presently with a large basket of
ox-hearts.

"Now let's see how smart you can be," she said. "Sit down on the step
and I put the basket beside you. Pick them clean." Mary looked rather
frightened at the size of the task, but she set to work.