step.

Five minutes sufficed for our young seamstress to make the garment
wearable, and then she told Miss McKenzie that if she would bring the
habit to her upon her return, she would repair it more thoroughly.

The kind-hearted girl was very grateful.

"How kind you are to do it!" she cried, as Mona smoothed the heavy folds
into place, then, with a sudden impulse and a sympathetic look into the
fair face of the seamstress, she added: "What a pity it is that you have
to stay here all by yourself, while the rest of us are having such
delightful times! Why cannot you come with us, Miss Richards? I will make
mamma let you go with her--there is an extra seat in that carriage."

"Thank you; you are very good to suggest it, Miss McKenzie, but I cannot
go," Mona answered, with a flush, but touched that the girl should wish
her to share her pleasures.

"I am sure you would enjoy it, for you are young, and it is too bad to be
obliged to stay indoors this delightful weather, and I imagine, if the
truth were known, you could be as gay as anybody, while truly," with an
arch, winsome glance, "I believe you are the prettiest girl here. Do you
know how to dance?"

"Yes."

"Then I think I can manage it--if you would like it, Miss Richards--to
have you join the german this evening; will you?"

"You are very thoughtful, Miss McKenzie," Mona replied, appreciatively,
"but I should feel out of place, even if others were as kindly disposed
as yourself."

"You have had trouble--you have lost friends," Miss Kitty remarked,
glancing at her black dress.

"Yes--all that I had in the world," Mona returned, with a quivering lip
and a sigh that was almost a sob; for the sweet girl's kindly interest
moved her deeply.

"I am sorry," said her companion, simply, but sincerely. Then she
continued, with heartiness: "But let me count myself your friend after
this--will you? I think you are very nice, and I believe it would be
very easy to love you--you poor, lonely child!" and before Mona realized
her intention, she had stooped and kissed her softly on the cheek.

She did not give her any opportunity to reply, but tripped away, flushing
over her own impulsive familiarity.

She looked back over her shoulder as she reached the door and added:

"Good-by, Miss Richards; remember, you and I are to be friends; and thank
you ever so much for mending my dress."

She was gone before Mona could answer, even to tell her that she was very
welcome, b