ho was going to
call upon Mrs. Mason, started for home, leaving the girls alone among
strangers. It was a rainy, dreary day, and the moment her aunt was
gone, Ida threw herself upon the bed and burst into tears. Jenny, who
occupied the next room, was also low spirited, for Rose was terribly
cross, calling her a "ninny hammer," and various other dignified
names. Among the four girls, Mary was the only cheerful one, and after
a time she succeeded in comforting Ida, while Jenny, catching
something of her spirit, began to laugh loudly, as she told a group of
girls how many ludicrous blunders she made when they undertook to
question her about Euclid, which she had never studied in her life!

And now in a few days life at Mt. Holyoke commenced in earnest.
Although perfectly healthy, Mary looked rather delicate, and it was
for this reason, perhaps, that the sweeping and dusting of several
rooms were assigned to her, as her portion of the labor. Ida and Rose
fared much worse, and were greatly shocked, when told that they both
belonged to the wash circle!

"I declare," said Rose, "it's too bad. I'll walk home before I'll do
it;" and she glanced at her white hands, to make sure they were not
already discolored by the dreaded soap suds!

Jenny was delighted with her allotment, which was dish-washing.

"I'm glad I took that lesson at the poor-house years ago," said she
one day to Rose, who snappishly replied, "I'd shut up about the
poor-house, or they'll think you the pauper instead of Madam Howard."

"Pauper? Who's a pauper?" asked Lucy Downs, eager to hear so desirable
a piece of news.

Ida Selden's large black eyes rested reprovingly upon Rose, who nodded
towards Mary, and forthwith Miss Downs departed with the information,
which was not long in reaching Mary's ears.

"Why, Mary, what's the matter?" asked Ida, when towards the close of
the day she found her companion weeping in her room. Without lifting
her head, Mary replied, "It's foolish in me to cry, I know, but why
need I always be reproached with having been a pauper. I couldn't help
it. I promised mother I would take care of little Allie as long as she
lived, and if she went to the poor-house, I had to go too."

"And who was little Allie?" asked Ida, taking Mary's hot hands between
her own.

In few words Mary related her history, omitting her acquaintance with
George Moreland, and commencing at the night when her mother died. Ida
was warm-hearted and affectiona