e at noon to ask. Mrs. Lyman never liked to have Patty
gone over night; but the child pleaded so hard that she gave her
consent, only Patty must take her knitting-work, and musn't ask to wear
her Sunday clothes.

When she went home with Linda she found Mrs. Chase sitting by the parlor
window very grandly dressed. She kissed Patty, without once looking at
Patty's gingham loose-gown; but her eyes were quite red, as if she had
been crying.

"I like to have you come to see Linda," said she, "for Linda has no
little sister, and she feels rather lonesome."

Then the children went up stairs to see the wonderful calico gown which
cost "four and sixpence" a yard, and _almost_ stood alone (that was all
Linda had ever said it could do).

Mr. Chase and Fred were both away from home; and Patty was glad, for Mr.
Chase was so very polite and stiff, and Fred always talked to her as if
she was a baby. She did not like to go to see Linda when either of them
was there.

Mrs. Chase took both the little girls in her lap, and seemed to enjoy
hearing their childish prattle. Patty glanced at the gay rings on the
lady's fingers, and at the pictures on the walls, and wondered why it
wasn't a happy home, and what made Mrs. Chase's eyes so red. Then all at
once she remembered what Siller Noonin had said: "O, yes, Mrs. Chase
has everything heart can wish, except a bottle to put her tears in."

Patty did not see why a handkerchief wasn't just as good; but she could
not help looking at Linda's mother with some curiosity. If she really
had a strong preference for crying into a bottle, why didn't her rich
husband buy her a bottle, a glass one, beautifully shaped, with gold
flowers on it, and let her cry into it just as much as she pleased? He
was rich, and he ought to.

When they went to bed in the beautiful chamber that had such pretty
furniture, Mrs. Chase kissed them good night, but not in a happy way,
like Patty's mother.

"What makes your ma look so?" said Patty; "has she got the side-ache?"

"No, I guess not," replied little Linda; "but she says she feels bad
round the heart."

"My ma don't," returned Patty, thoughtfully. "I never heard her say so."

That was the last Patty knew, till ever so long afterwards, right in the
middle of a dream, she heard a great noise. It was a sound of scuffling,
and something being dragged up stairs. She saw the glimmer of lights,
and heard somebody's voice--she thought it was Mr. Chase's--say, "Look