lease--_please_. I don't smell it now, and anyway I like
it. It's a variety. I'm tired of the perfume of white violets! If you
don't mind, I wish you'd tell me some more about when you had
to--stop, you know. I suppose you mean stop going to school, don't
you?"

"Yes. It was when my father was killed in an accident. I had to stop
then. There's only mother and me and 'Tiny Tim.' I went to work in
the rubber factory--it was six months ago. I had just begun getting
really into study, you know."

The quiet voice was unsteady with intense wistfulness. The Other
Girl's eyes were gazing out of the car window as if they saw lost
opportunities and yearned over them. Glory could not see the longing
in them until they turned suddenly toward her and she caught a
wondering glimpse of it.

"We had never had much, you see, but after father was killed--after
that there was only mother and me, and mother is sick. So of course I
had to stop going to school. I should like to have had enough so I
could teach instead of working in a factory--"

This much said, the Other Girl shrank into herself as if into a
little shabby shell. The distance between the two girls seemed
abruptly to have widened. All at once Glory's hands were delicately
gloved and the Other Girl's bare and red; Glory's dress trim and
beautiful, and the Other Girl's faded and worn; Glory's jacket
buttons rich and handsome, the Other Girl's top button split. It
seemed all to have happened in a moment when the Other Girl woke up.
How could she have forgotten herself so and talked like that!

"I wish--if you'd just as lief--you'd go back to your seat now," she
said. "I--I never talked like that before to a stranger, and I ain't
like you, you know. I've explained about the books. I studied them
last night, but I don't think I hurt them any."

"I guess you did them good," laughed Glory, brightly. "I expect to
find an inspiration between the pages--why, actually, I feel a little
bit (oh, a very little) of interest already in history. How delighted
Aunt Hope would feel if she knew!--No, I'm not going back to my seat.
Why, here's Centre Town! Did you ever see such a short ride! I've got
to get off here, and I wish I hadn't--oh, dear! Good-by."

Out on the platform Glory waved her books at the girlish face in the
car window. The friendly little act sent the Other Girl on to the
East Centre Town rubber factory with a warm spot in her heart.

"She's splendid, Diantha Leavitt,