or on
the further side of the room. The shop occupied the front room of the
shoemaker's house. The two back rooms, with the chambers above, was
where Louise and her father made their home.

Mr. Trent opened the door and said: "You'll find her in there," and
Faith stepped into the queerest room that she had ever seen, and the
door closed behind her. Louise was standing, half-hidden by a clumsy
wooden chair. The shawl was still pinned about her shoulders.

"This ain't much like your aunt's house, is it? I guess you won't ever
want to come again. And my father says I can't ever go to see you
again. He says I don't look fit," said Louise.

But Faith's eyes had brightened, and she was looking at the further
side of the room and smiling with delight. "Oh, Louise! Why didn't you
tell me that you had a gray kitten? And it looks just like 'Bounce,'"
and in a moment she had picked up the pretty kitten, and was sitting
beside Louise on a roughly made wooden seat, telling her of her own
kitten, while Louise eagerly described the cleverness of her own pet.

"What's its name?" asked Faith.

"Just 'kitten,'" answered Louise, as if surprised at the question.

"But it must have a real name," insisted Faith, and it was finally
decided that it should be named "Jump," the nearest approach to the
name of Faith's kitten that they could imagine.

The floor of the room was rough and uneven, and not very clean. There
was a table, the big chair and the wooden seat. Although the morning
was chilly there was no fire in the fireplace, although there was a
pile of wood in one corner. There was but one window, which looked
toward the lake.

"Come out in the kitchen, where it's warm," suggested Louise, after a
few moments, and Faith was glad to follow her.

"Don't you want to try on my new cape?" asked Faith, as they reached
the kitchen, a much pleasanter room than the one they had left.

Louise shook her head. "I daresn't," she replied. "Father may come in.
And he'd take my head off."

"You are coming to see me, Louise. Aunt Prissy is talking to your
father about it now," said Faith; but Louise was not to be convinced.

"He won't let me. You'll see," she answered mournfully. "_I_ know.
He'll think your aunt is 'Charity.' Why, he won't make shoes any more
for the minister because his wife brought me a dress; and I didn't
wear the dress, either."

But there was a surprise in store for Louise, for when Mrs. Scott and
Mr. Trent entered th