one of those
who seem to make no aspirations to the sweets of life, if she had
ever felt as she herself did. Such a curiosity possessed her
concerning it that she wished she could ask the girl, although she
did not know her. She dreaded lest Jessy Ramsey should run to meet
her, and her dread was realized. However, Maria was not as distressed
by it as she thought. She stooped and kissed Jessy quite easily.

"Good-morning, dear," she said.

A shock of any kind has the quality of mercy in that it benumbs as to
pain. Maria's only realization was that something monstrous had
happened, something like mutilation, but there was no sting of agony.
She entered the school-house and went about her duties as usual. The
children realized no difference in her, but all the time she realized
the difference in herself. Something had gone from her, some
essential part which she could never recover, not in itself, no
matter what her future life might be. She was shorn of her first
love, and that which has been never can be again.

When Maria reached the bridge on her way home, there was Lily waiting
for her, as she had half expected she would be.

"Maria, dear," said Lily, with a pretty gesture of pleading, "I had
to come and meet you, because I am so happy, and nobody else knows,
except mother, and, somehow, her being pleased doesn't please me. I
suppose I am wicked, but it makes me angry. I know it is awful to say
such a thing of my own mother, but I can't help feeling that she
thinks now she can have my room for Mabel Ellridge, and won't have to
give up the spare chamber. I have nobody to talk to but you, Maria.
George won't come over before evening, and I am scared to go in and
see his mother. I am so afraid she won't like me. Do you think she
will like me, Maria dear?"

"I don't see why she should not," replied Maria. Lily had hold of her
arm and was nestling close to her.

"Don't you, honest?"

"No, dear. I said so."

"You don't mind my coming to meet you and talk it over, do you,
Maria?"

"Of course I don't! Why should I?" asked Maria, almost angrily.

"I thought you wouldn't. Maria, do you think a blue tea-gown or a
pink one would be prettier?"

"I think pink is your color," said Maria.

"Well, I rather like the idea of pink myself. Mother says I shall
have enough money to get some nice things. I suppose it is very
silly, but I always thought that one of the pleasantest things about
getting married, must be having