she saw a boy
coming along the road. When she saw him, she hurried more eagerly, and
was just lifting a very large stone when he came forward, timidly, but
with outstretched hands. "Let me help you," he said.

But Marjorie half turned her back, with the heavy stone. "No, no!" she
said. "I can do it myself."

"I would like to help you," the boy persisted. "I could make it much
easier for you."

"No," said Marjorie, "I don't need you. Please let me pass."

The boy stepped aside with a little sigh. "No one wants me to help," he
said, "and I don't seem to find any work of my own. I am not very
clever," and he went on, crossing upon the stones which were already
laid, and then jumping to the farther side, where he stood, watching.

Marjorie followed with her load, stepping carefully from one stone to
another, and then, just as she bent to lower her burden into the stream,
it slipped from her hands and dropped with a great splash that deluged
the boy on the other side, with muddy water.

"There!" exclaimed Marjorie, impatiently, "I've got you all muddy! I'm
sorry, but you shouldn't have waited. I told you that I didn't want
help."

"Never mind," said the boy, wiping the mud from his face; and turning
away, he walked quietly up the road.

Marjorie looked after him ruefully.

"What is the matter?" asked the Dream.

"I don't exactly know," said Marjorie; "but there is a mistake
somewhere."

"Why didn't you let him help you?" asked the Dream.

"I didn't need his help. I could do it alone."

"But perhaps he needed to help you."

Marjorie bit her lip. "I wanted to do it alone," she said. "I thought it
was my work. I wanted to work, and I was glad that it was hard, and that
the stones were all that I could lift,--it made it seem more like doing
something."

The Dream was silent for a moment, and Marjorie stood dabbling the toe
of her shoe in the water. At last, "Were you selfish?" asked the Dream.

"Yes," said Marjorie, in a low voice, "I was." Then she went back and
gathered up her roses, and she and the Dream walked slowly on, soon
finding themselves on the outskirts of a town.

Presently the streets grew dingy and the houses high and narrow. "I
don't see anything to do here," said Marjorie. "Couldn't we go back into
the country again?"

"Don't you see anything to do?" asked the Dream, and just then Marjorie
noticed a little child standing on the curbing, it's hands clasped and
it's eyes fixed upon the bunc