of her mostly, but I must
confess that she's lived with me so long and got my ways so well, that
she's as pleasant a mannered, good-tempered child, and will scour as
bright a knife as you could wish to see!"

Mary saw that Mrs. Mason could hardly repress a smile as she replied,
"I am glad about the temper and manners, but the scouring of knives is
of little consequence, for Judith always does that."

Sal Furbush, who had courtesied herself into the room, now asked to
say a word concerning Mary. "She is," said she, "the very apple of my
eye, and can parse a sentence containing three double relatives, two
subjunctive moods and four nominatives absolute, perfectly easily."

"I see you are a favorite here," said Mrs. Mason, laying her hand
gently on Mary's head, "and I think that in time you will be quite as
much of one with me, so one week from Saturday you may expect me."

There was something so very affectionate in Mrs. Mason's manner of
speaking, that Mary could not keep her tears back; and when Sally,
chancing to be in a poetic mood, said to her, "Maiden, wherefore
weepest thou?" she replied, "I can't help it. She speaks so kind, and
makes me think of mother."

"Speaks so _kindly_, you mean," returned Sal, while Mrs. Mason,
brushing a tear from her own eye, whispered to the little girl, "I
will be a mother to you, my child;" then, as Mr. Knight had finished
discussing the weather with Mr. Parker, she stepped into his buggy,
and was driven away.

"That's what I call a thoroughly grammatical lady," said Sal, looking
after her until a turn in the road hid her from view, "and I shall try
to be resigned, though the vital spark leaves this house when Mary
goes."

Not long after, Rind asked Miss Grundy if William Bender was going
away.

"Not as I know on," answered Miss Grundy. "What made you think of
that?"

"'Cause," returned Rind, "I heard Sal Furbush having over a mess of
stuff about the _spark's_ leaving when Mary did, and I thought mebby
he was going, as you say he's her spark!"

The next afternoon Jenny, managing to elude the watchful eyes of her
mother and governess, came over to the poor-house.

"I'm so glad you are going," said she, when she heard of Mrs. Mason's
visit. "I shall be lonesome without you, but you'll have such a happy
home, and when you get there mayn't I tell George Moreland about you
the next time I see him?"

"I'd rather you wouldn't," said Mary, "for I don't believe he
remembers me