and shook her head.

"But it would n't be different, my dear," she demurred.

"Why, of course it would!" laughed Kate bitterly. "It could n't help
it."

Again Mrs. Howland shook her head. Then a whimsical smile crossed her
face.

"Kate," she said, "there are crumbs on the plates out in the world just
the same as there are here; and if here you teach yourself to see
nothing but crumbs, you will see nothing but crumbs out there. In
short, dissatisfaction with everyday living is the same joy-killer
whether in town or city, farmhouse or palace. Oh, I 'm preaching, I
know, dear," went on Mrs. Howland hurriedly, as she saw the angry light
in the other's eyes, "but--I had to speak--you don't know how it's
growing on you. Come, let's kiss and make up; then think it over."

Kate frowned, then laughed constrainedly.

"Don't worry, aunt," she replied, rising, and just touching her aunt's
lips with her own. "I still think it would be different out there;
but--I suppose you 'll always remain unconvinced, for I shall never
have the chance to prove it. My plates won't belong anywhere but in
Hopkinsville cupboards! Come, will you play to me?"

When Mrs. Rowland returned from England, one of the first letters she
received after reaching home was a cordial invitation from her dead
brother's daughter, Kate, to visit her.

In the last five years Mrs. Howland had seen her niece but once. That
was during the sad, hurried days just following Mr. Merton's sudden
death four years before. Since then Mrs. Howland had been abroad and
there had been many changes at the little farmhouse in Hopkinsville.
The farm had been sold, and Kate had married and had gone to Boston to
live. Beyond the facts that Kate's husband was older than she, and was
a man of considerable means, Mrs. Howland knew little of her niece's
present circumstances. It was with curiosity, as well as pleasure,
that she accepted Kate's invitation, and took the train specified.

At the South Station Mrs. Howland found a stylishly gowned, smiling
young woman with a cordial welcome. An imposing carriage with a
liveried coachman waited to take her to Kate's home.

"Oh, what handsome horses!" cried Mrs. Howland appreciatively, as she
stepped into the carriage.

"Yes, are n't they," agreed Kate. "If only they matched better, they'd
be perfect. I wish both had stars on their foreheads!"

"Let me see, you are on Beacon Street, I believe," remarked Mrs.
Howland, a