what _do_ you think! I've made a whole dozen of these
baby-slips to-day!"

"Patty! You don't mean it! Why, my dear child, how could you?"

"On the machine. And they're done neatly, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are, indeed. But Patty----"

"What?"

"I hate to tell you,--but----"

"Oh, what is it, Nan? Is the material wrong side out?"

"No, you goosie, there's no right or wrong side to cotton cloth, but----"

"Well, tell me!"

"Every one of these little sleeves is made upside down!"

"Oh, Nan! It can't be!"

"Yes, they are, dearie. See, this wider part should have been at the
top."

"Oh, Nan, what shall I do? I thought they were sort of flowing sleeves,
you know. Kimono-shaped ones, I mean."

"No; they're set wrong. Oh, Patty, why didn't you let me help you? But
you told me to keep away."

"Yes, I know I did. Now, I've spoiled the whole dozen! I like them just
as well that way, myself, but I know they'll 'deduct' for it."

"Patty, I don't think you ought to do 'white work' anyway. How much are
they going to pay you?"

"A dollar a dozen."

"And you've done a dozen in a day. That won't bring you fifteen dollars
in a week."

"Well, I thought the second dozen would go faster, and it probably will.
And, of course, I shan't make that mistake with the sleeves again. Truly,
Nan, it's a heap easier than embroidery."

"Well, don't worry over it to-night," said Nan, kissing her. "Take a hot
bath and hop into bed. Perhaps you have found the right work after all."

Nan didn't really think she had, but Patty had begun to look worried, and
Nan feared she wouldn't be able to sleep.

But sleep she did, from sheer physical exhaustion.

And woke next morning, almost unable to move! Every muscle in her body
was lame from her strenuous machine work. She couldn't rise from her bed,
and could scarcely raise her head from the pillow.

When Catherine, Nan's maid, came to her room, Patty said, faintly:

"Ask Mrs. Fairfield to come up, please."

Nan came, and Patty looked at her comically, as she said:

"Nan, I'm vanquished, but not subdued. I'm just one mass of lameness and
ache, but if you think I've given up my plan, you're greatly mistaken.
However, I'm through with 'white work,' and I've sewed my last sew on a
machine."

"Why, Patty girl, you're really ill," said Nan, sympathetically.

"No, I'm not! I'm perfectly well. Just a trifle lame from over-exercise
yesterday. I'll stay in bed to-day, and Nan, dear, if y