two or three more, and on Wednesday Miss Eunice
invites our class and hers to tea, and reads to us, and we have a
society and work for missions and--oh, it's so nice!" said enthusiastic
Katie.

"Do you go to Sunday-school just to have nice times?" and Tessa opened
her black eyes very widely.

"No," said her friend, more soberly; "I think I go there to learn more
about Jesus, and how to love him more and serve him better. Some of us
hope to join the church soon."

Tessa asked some questions that led to a long talk which lasted till
they had reached the Fawn's Leap, which was a beautiful little waterfall
shooting down between two high rocks, from one of which to the other a
fawn was reputed to have sprung. It was a very lovely spot, and the two
girls threw themselves upon the grass to rest, while the Italian drew
long inspirations of delight.

"It makes me think of home," she said; "the old home in Italy. We
lived, my father and I, close to a waterfall just like this, among the
mountains. After my mother died my father did not want to stay there, so
he went to Naples and bought an organ, and we came to America in a big
ship, and wandered about, and then"--her voice broke down then and she
said: "Oh, Katie, I am so lonely! if I only had a home like yours, with
people in it to talk to and to be kind to me, I should not want to read
so many stories. I don't believe they _are_ good for me." This was in
reference to all Miss Eunice's talk about the evils of novel-reading as
repeated by Katie.

A sudden thought struck the latter.

"Tessa," she said, "it must be awfully lonely at your boarding-house in
the evenings and on Sundays. I wish you could come and live with me. I
have no companions but the boys, and to have you would be just
splendid."

"Do you think I could? Do you think your mother would let me? Oh, Katie,
you can't really mean it!"

Katie had not taken her mother into consideration. Of course, she could
not be sure of her approbation of such a plan, but she promised to ask,
and went on planning how nice it would be--how the two girls could share
Katie's room and bed; how they could go to the mill together. "And
then," said she, "you could go to Sunday-school with me, Tessa."

But here Tessa drew back. She had no clothes, she said, fit to go to
church in--only her working-dress and the straw hat which she wore every
day to the mill.

"Go in that. Miss Eunice says God doesn't care what we wear when we go