an agreement, looking more than usually like a little
girl playing dolls.

"I reckon Mr. Himes knows best, Johnnie, honey," was her reiterated
comment.

Cautiously Johnnie approached the subject of pay; her stepfather had
already demanded her wages, and expressed unbounded surprise that she
was not willing to pass over the Saturday pay-envelope to him and let
him put the money in the bank along with his other savings. Careful
calculation showed that the four children could, after a few weeks of
learning, probably earn a little more than she could; and in any case
Himes put it as a disciplinary measure, a way of life selected largely
for the good of the little ones.

"If you just as soon let me," she said to him at last, "I believe I'll
take them over to the Victory myself to-morrow morning."

She had hopes of telling their ages bluntly to the mill superintendent
and having them refused.

Pap agreed negligently; he had no liking for early rising. And thus it
was that Johnnie found herself at eight o'clock making her way, in the
midst of the little group, toward the Georgia line and the old Victory
plant, which all good workers in the district shunned if possible.

As she set her foot on the first plank of the bridge she heard a little
rumble of sound, and down the road came a light, two-seated vehicle,
with coloured driver, and Miss Lydia Sessions taking her sister's
children out for an early morning drive. There was a frail, long-visaged
boy of ten sitting beside his aunt in the back, with a girl of eight
tucked between them. The nurse on the front seat held the youngest
child, a little girl about Deanie's age.

As they came nearer, the driver drew up, evidently in obedience to Miss
Sessions's command, and she leaned forward graciously to speak
to Johnnie.

"Good morning, John," said Miss Sessions as the carriage stopped. "Whose
children are those?"

"They are my little sisters and brothers," responded Johnnie, looking
down with a very pale face, and busying herself with Deanie's hair.

"And you're taking them over to the mill, so that they can learn to be
useful. How nice that is!" Lydia smiled brightly at the little ones--her
best charity-worker's smile.

"No," returned Johnnie, goaded past endurance, "I'm going over to see if
I can get them to refuse to take this one." And she bent and picked
Deanie up, holding her, the child's head dropped shyly against her
breast, the small flower-like face turned a