jorie, "Aunt Mary sent this to me when
I graduated from grammar school. She hadn't seen me for two years and
didn't know I had grown so fast. She bought it ready made in one of the
New York stores. It was too short and too tight for me and to make it
over meant simply to spoil it. It was so sweet in her to send it that
when I wrote my thank you to her I couldn't bear to tell her that it
didn't fit, so I kept it just to look at. I didn't really need it, for,
thanks to you and mother, I have plenty of others. Don't you think I
ought to make someone else happy when I have the chance? It is right to
share one's spoils with a comrade, isn't it?"

Her father looked lovingly at the pretty, earnest face of his daughter
as she stood holding up the filmy gown, her eyes bright with unselfish
purpose. "I am very glad my little girl is so thoughtful of others," he
said. "Whatever your captain says is law. How about it, Captain?" His
wife and he exchanged glances.

"You may give your friend the dress if you like, dear," consented Mrs.
Dean, "if you think she will accept it."

"That's just the point, Captain," returned Marjorie. "You know you said
I could bring Constance home for dinner to-night, and she is coming.
Perhaps we can think of some nice way to give it to her while she is
here."

Marjorie carefully replaced the gown in its box and ran upstairs with
it. She returned with her hat and coat on her arm, and hanging them on
the hall rack hastened to eat her luncheon.

All afternoon she puzzled as to how she might best offer Constance the
gown. When the four girls strolled homeward together after school she
had still not thought of a way. Jerry and Irma held forth, at length,
with true schoolgirl eloquence, upon the subject of their gowns.
Constance listened gravely without comment. Her small, impassive face
showed no sign of her hopeless longing for the pretty things she had
never possessed.

Once inside the Dean's pleasant home, a flash of appreciation routed her
impassivity as Marjorie conducted her into the comfortable living-room
where Mrs. Dean sat reading, and her face softened under the spell of
the older woman's gentle greeting.

"I am pleased to know you, Constance," said Mrs. Dean, offering her
hand. "I have been expecting you for some time. Now that I have seen you
I will say that you do look very much like Marjorie's friend Mary." She
did not add that this girl's face lacked the good-natured, happy
expression