iss Bezac sat quite still,--then she roused up.

"Nothing to live upon but butter!"--she said,--"well that's not
much,--at least if there's ever so much of it you want something else.
And what you want you must have--if you can get it. And I can get you
plenty of work--and it's a good thing to understand this sort of work
too, for he might carry you off to some random place where they wear
calico just as they can put it on--and that wouldn't suit you, nor him
neither. I don't believe _this_'ll suit him though--and it don't me,
not a bit. I'm as proud as a Lucifer match for anybody I love. But I'll
make you proud of your work in no time. What'll you do first? embroider
or stitch or cut out or baste or fit?"

"What you please--what you think best. But Miss Bezac, what are you
'proud' about?"

"O I've my ways and means, like other folks," said Miss Bezac. "And you
can do something more striking than aprons for people that don't need
'em. But I'm not going to give you _this_ apron, Faith--I sha'n't have
her wearing your work all round town, and none the wiser. See--this is
nice and light and pretty--like the baby it's for,--you like green,
don't you? and so will your eyes."

"I'd as lieve have Miss Essie wear my work as eat my butter," said
Faith. "But," she added more gravely,--"I think that what God gives me
to do, I ought to be proud to do,--and I am sure I am willing. He knows
best."

"Yes, yes, my dear--I believe that,--and so I do most things you say,"
answered Miss Bezac, bringing forth from the closet a little roll of
green calico. "Now do you like this?--because if you don't, say so."

"I'll take this," said Faith, "and the next time I'll take the apron. I
must do just as much as I can, Miss Bezac; and you must let me. Would
you rather have the apron done first? I want Miss Essie's apron, Miss
Bezac!"

"Well you can't have it," said Miss Bezac,--"and what you can't, you
can't--all the world over. Begin slow and go on fast--that's the best
way. And I'll take the best care of you!--lay you up in lavender,--like
my work when it's done and isn't gone home."

So laughingly they parted, and Faith went home with her little bundle
of work, well contented.

A very few days had seen the household retrenchments made. Cindy was
gone, and Mr. Skip was only waiting for a "boy" to come. Mother and
daughter drew their various tools and conveniences into one room and
the kitchen, down stairs, to have the less to take car