she
stalked, before Bea could gain her breath.

When Kittie and Kat came in from the pond a little while later, they
found Bea, lying on the lounge and sobbing, with a despairing energy,
that excited their liveliest alarm, and made all horrible things seem
possible, from mother's death down to the breaking of the cherished
family tea-pot. Bea told her story, but hadn't room to remonstrate, for
the sobs that caught her breath; and the girls listened in grave alarm.

"Who cares for old Polly Strong?" cried Kat, with defiant irreverence,
and throwing her hat to the ceiling.

"Well, I'm sorry," cried Kittie, running to comfort the prostrate chief.
"It's all my fault; Kat swept the parlor this morning and I cleaned in
here. Oh, I am ashamed, and so sorry, Bea dear."

"Well--well, I think it's too--too bad," sobbed Bea, uncomforted. "She
talked so mean, and--and--she'll tell everybody that--that--I'm no
housekeeper, and then--then, mama--"

"If she does," interrupted Kat fiercely, "I'll tell every mortal man,
woman and child, in turn, that she's a meddling old thing, if they don't
know it already; and I'll tell them just the truth about this room,
too."

"It was horrible in me," sighed Kittie in great self-reproach. "And when
you were so kind as to change, too. We'll go right back to the dishes,
Bea, and not disgrace your work any more, and I'll go right to work and
clean this room decent, so that everything will shine until you can see
your face in it."

By this time Ernestine's wardrobe was pretty near ready to go upon her
visit. She had exercised her ingenuity in making few things look their
best and go a long way; and her selfishness in getting every available
thing from the girls, without ever expressing a wish that they were
going to share the pleasure; because, she reasoned in her mind, if they
were going, she couldn't have all their pretty things, so better be
still, than express an untruthful desire. On the day after the Strong
visit, she came from down-town, and walked up to the house, very much as
if she were a little ashamed to go in, but which she did, with an
assumption of indifference, and came into the room where the girls were
sitting.

"I've got the last things," she said with a laugh, tinged with an
uneasiness that no one noticed, and unwrapping a small parcel.

"What?" asked Bea, glancing up with interest; then looked at the open
paper, and did not say another word.

Kittie and Kat did likewis