ted by
George W. Clark'--all nonsense, of course. Some ladies were here to-day
to ask if I would exhibit it. The Colonial Dames are to have a Loan
Exhibit."

"I hope you will not have to sell it, but if you should, that will be an
excellent way of advertising it. Oughtn't you to let Mark know the state
of affairs? Don't spoil him; he is such a fine fellow," answered Mrs.
Morrison.

"There's time enough for that," said Mr. Clark, and then added, "I want
to speak to you about something else," and he told the story of Emma's
trouble. "I thought perhaps you could--"

"Yes, indeed, I'm sure I can. Thank you for telling me," she held out
her hand. "How kind you are, Mr. Clark! Good night."

This makes it quite plain how Mrs. Morrison happened to walk into Mrs.
Bond's domain the next day with a white dress over her arm.

"I want you to look at this, Mrs. Bond," she said. "It is a dress I
had made for Frances last spring, and by a mistake it was cut so
short it had to be faced. Now she has outgrown it, and nothing can
be done. Do you think Emma could wear it? Frances is a good deal
taller. I have thought of offering it to you before, and now it has
occurred to me that Emma may not have a dress ready to wear to the
school entertainment,--Gladys was telling us about it yesterday,--and
if you will accept it, it will be doing me a great favor. I dislike so
to have it wasted."

"It is a very pretty dress; it is too bad Frances can't wear it," Mrs.
Bond remarked, examining it critically.

"Then you will let me give it to Emma?"

Emma's mother was not hard hearted; she liked to see her children happy,
but she had a stern feeling that hardship was likely to be their lot in
this world, and the sooner they became used to it the better. However,
when her pride was convinced that Mrs. Morrison could not use the dress,
she accepted it gratefully.

Emma's joy was beyond words, and she very much wondered how the
Spectacle Man could have known that something was going to happen.

When the eventful day came, Mrs. Morrison rolled her hair for her and
tied her long braids with butterfly bows of red, white, and blue, and
when she was dressed, Frances said, "Why, Emma, I believe you are as
pretty as Gladys!"

Certainly no little girl waved her flag with more enthusiasm, or
rejoiced more truly in the celebration of Washington's Birthday.

CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

AT THE LOAN EXHIBIT.

Before the end of February there began to