but don't you go to presuming on
that wave!" she said to herself, severely. "This minute I believe
you're presuming! You're looking ahead to seeing her again to-night
when you go home, and getting another wave--it's just like you. I
know you! A little thing like that turns your head round on your
shoulders!"

A little thing! Was it a little thing to have beautiful, breezy Glory
wave her books at you? To have her nod and smile up at your window?

All day long the Other Girl smiled over her petty, distasteful work,
and Glory's face crept in between her tasks and nodded at her in
friendly fashion. She watched for it breathlessly at night, when the
train stopped at Centre Town. And it was there on the platform; it
came smiling into the car and stopped at her seat! By the time Little
Douglas was reached the two girls were friends.

"Auntie," Glory cried, dropping down by her aunt, "would you believe
you could get to love anybody in two three-quarters of an hour? Well,
I did to-day." And then she told her aunt of the girl in the sailor
hat. "Her clothes were shabby--oh, terribly shabby. I thought her
dreadful at first, till I found out--now I love her. You would, too."

"And who is she really? What is her name?"

"I don't know her name! Think of it, auntie, I love her and may be
her name's Martha Jane! _I_ don't know. But I don't care--I shall
keep right on liking her. And so will you, because she studies
history because she likes it. _Likes_ it! Says she'd rather study it
than not! It's a fact."

"I love her!" exclaimed Aunt Hope, fervently, and then they both
laughed. And Glory told all that she knew about the Other Girl. Aunt
Hope smoothed Glory's hair. It was the way she did when she approved
of things.

"I like your new friend. I'm glad you left the books in the car," she
said. "But there's more to the sad little story. It's to be
continued, Glory. You must find out the other chapters. There will be
plenty of time if you go back and forth together. And, dear, if you
sit beside her in the car perhaps you will learn to love books, too."

"Never!" Glory laughed. "It isn't the age for miracles, auntie. The
most you can hope for is that I'll learn to _study_. That's bad
enough!"

"Well, kiss me, Little Disappointment, and run away. I wrote your
father to-day, and what do you think I told him?"

"That I was a very good girl and he was to send on that ring right
off; that you were actually worried about me, I was s