nd a half
each day to the distasteful work that she so cordially hated. At
first, I mean; strangely enough, after a while things changed. Glory
woke up one day to find herself keenly interested in a knotty
problem. She could hardly wait to get her head beside the Other
Girl's, to see if together they could not solve it.

"Think of it, auntie! Is it me, or am I somebody else?" she laughed,
hurrying in to kiss Aunt Hope good-by. "Think of _me_ in a hurry to
get an answer to a problem!"

"Yes, it's you, dear. It's Glory Glorified!" laughed back the sweet
voice. Then she drew the girl's bright head down beside her. "It's
gone, dear. The Ambition out of my heart. It's passed to somebody
else--to you, I think, Glory--yes, I'm confident! You've got it this
minute!"

And Glory understood. She went away wondering if it could be true
that she, Gloria Wetherell, had a real ambition in life.

"Auntie hasn't called me Disappointment for a long time," she mused
happily, as she sped down the frosty street with the nip of keen air
on her cheeks and the tonic of it in her lungs. Her mind hurried back
to the knotty problem. She and the Other Girl were still at work on
it that night, coming home. It happened that it had not been taken up
in the recitation that day.

"It looks so easy and it isn't," sighed Glory.

"But we're bound to solve it," the Other Girl cried. The two heads
were close together, and the Crosspatch Conductor smiled as he passed
them. He had been watching them with a good deal of interest for a
long time. This time he turned and came back.

"Tough one, eh?" he said.

"Awfully!" laughed Glory.

"But we're going to get it," smiled the Other Girl, going back to the
front. The Crosspatch Conductor stood regarding Glory gravely.

"Helping her along, eh?"

"No," answered Glory, "she's helping me."

Another wrestle with the problem, and still another--then an exciting
moment when victory seemed in sight. Closer drew the brown
heads--more earnest grew the eager voices. "We've got it!"

"Goody!" cried Glory. "Just in time, too, for here we are at--"

Her face sobered. She got to her feet in a sudden panic. What was
this strange little place they were drawing into? Those woods, the
houses and the trees--they were not Little Douglas.

"I've been carried by!" gasped Glory. "I wasn't noticing. There isn't
any other train back to-night--I tell you I've been _carried by_.
This isn't my home!"

Chapter V.