way she knows everything is 'cause she always 'overhears.' I told
Auntie Prin that I thought that was terrible nice, and I'd like to
learn overhearing; and she sauced me back the funniest! My! she did!
Said if she ever caught me overhearing I'd be put to bed with nothing
but bread and water to eat, until I forgot the art. Just like that
she said it! Seems if overhearing is badness. She does so want
Gwendolyn to be really noble. Auntie Prin thinks it noble for Gwen to
give up her blankets and to have that be-a-u-tiful toboggan bought for
you with your name on it. You aren't real poor, are you, Dolly? Not
like the beggar folks come 'tramping' by and has 'victuals' given to
them? Bishop says all little girls must be good to the poor. That's
when he wants me to put my pennies in my Mite Box for the little
heathen. I don't so much care about the heathen and Hugh--"

But Dorothy suddenly put the child down, knowing that once started
upon the theme of "Brother Hugh" the little sister's talk was endless.
And she was deeply troubled.

She had altogether forgotten John Gilpin and the accusation she had
hurled at him. Nothing now remained in her mind but thoughts of
Gwendolyn's rich gifts and indignation against her. Why had she done
it? As a sort of payment for Dorothy's assistance at the Maiden's
Bath?

Meeting Miss Muriel in the hall she cried:

"Oh! my dear lady, I am in such trouble! May I talk to you a moment?"

"Certainly, Dorothy. Come this way. Surely there can be nothing
further have happened to you, to-day."

Safe in the shelter and privacy of a small classroom, Dorothy told her
story into wise and loving ears; and to be comforted at once.

"You are all wrong, Dorothy. I am sure that there was no such thought
as payment for any deed of yours in poor Gwendolyn's mind. You have
been invariably kind to her in every way possible; and until this
chance came she had found none in which to show you that she realized
this and loved you for it. Why, my dear, if you could have seen her
happiness when I told her it was a beautiful thing for her to do, you
would certainly have understood her and been glad to give her the
chance she was glad to take. It is often harder to accept favors than
to bestow them. It takes more grace. Now, dear, let's call that 'ghost
laid,' as Dawkins says. Hunt up Gwen, tell her how grateful you are to
her for her rich, unselfish gifts, and--do it with a real Dorothy
face; not with any hint of o