bed harder.

"Now, see here," said Francis. "I haven't known you more than an
hour, and I don't know what the matter is, and I don't know but
you'll think I'm officious, but I'll do anything in the world to help
you, if you'll only tell me."

Lois shook off his hand and sat up. "It isn't anything," said she,
catching her breath, and setting her tear-stained face defiantly
ahead.

"Don't you feel well?"

Lois nodded vaguely, keeping her quivering mouth firmly set. They
were both silent for a moment, then Lois spoke without looking at
him.

"Do you know if there's any school here that I could get?" said she.

"A school?"

"Yes. I want to get a chance to teach. I've been teaching, but I've
lost my school."

"And you want to get one here?"

"Yes. Do you know of any?"

"Why, see here," said Francis. "It's none of my business, but I
thought you hadn't been very well. Why don't you take a little
vacation?"

"I can't," returned Lois, in a desperate tone. "I've got to do
something."

"Why, won't your aunt--" He stopped short. The conviction that the
stern old woman who had inherited the Maxwell property was too hard
and close to support her little delicate orphan niece seized upon
him. Lois' next words strengthened it.

"I lost my school," she went on, still keeping her face turned toward
the meadow and speaking fast. "Ida Starr got it away from me. Her
father is school-committee-man, and he said he didn't think I was
able to teach, just because he brought me home in his buggy one day
when I was a little faint. I had a note from him that morning
mother--that morning she came down here. I was just going to school,
and I was a good deal better, when Mr. Starr's boy brought it. He
said he thought it was better for me to take a little vacation. I
knew what that meant. I knew Ida had wanted the school right along. I
told Amanda I was coming down here. She tried to stop me, but I had
money enough. Mr. Starr sent me what was owing to me, and I came. I
thought I might just as well. I thought mother--Amanda was dreadfully
scared, but I told her I was going to come. I can't go back to Green
River; I haven't got money enough." Lois's voice broke; she hid her
face again.

"Oh, don't feel so," cried Francis. "You don't want to go back to
Green River."

"Yes, I do. I want to get back. It's awful here, awful. I never knew
anything so awful."

Francis stared at her pityingly. "Why, you poor little girl, are you
as ho