it was done, for the very act drew her
nearer her father.

She went down that same evening to tell Mrs. Hunt about it. There
was neither baking nor pickling going on this time, but she found
her friend in her sitting-room, a basket of mending by her side.
"You are always busy, aren't you, Auntie Hunt?" said Marian. Mrs.
Hunt was called Auntie, by many of her friends.

"Yes, dear, I think most busy people are happy, and I am sure all
happy people are busy about something. Well, how goes it up at the
brick house?"

"Oh, very well, indeed. What do you think I have been doing to-day?"

"Can't guess. There is one thing I know you have not been doing.
I'll wager a sixpence you've not been blackberrying," and Mrs. Hunt
laughed.

The color flew into Marian's face. "No, indeed, I haven't been, and
I shall not probably ever go again until I'm a grown lady, and can
do as I please."

"Do you think all grown-ups do as they please?"

"Why, don't they?"

"Not a bit of it. But there, tell me what is the wonderful thing you
have been doing?"

"I have written a letter to papa all by myself, and Miss Dorothy has
mailed it. She put the stamp on and took it to the post-office just
now with her letters."

"Well, well, well, but won't he be pleased to get it? That's a fine
young woman, that Miss Dorothy of yours."

"Isn't she?"

"She is so. She made us a nice visit the other evening. She is a
girl after my own heart, none of your vain, self-absorbed young
persons, always concerned in her own affairs, but one of the real
hearty kind that thinks of others as well as herself, and has her
eyes open to what is best in life. I like her."

"And she likes you."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I wish you could see the kind of letters she writes to her father,
but then," Marian added thoughtfully, "he must be the kind of father
it is easy to write that way to."

"I'll be bound he is the right kind to have a daughter like that.
She has no mother, she tells me. Her aunt keeps house for them, and
there is quite a family of children."

"Yes, and Patty is the youngest. She is going to write to me."

"Bless me, how you are blossoming out into a correspondent. Well,
don't let it take up so much of your time that you won't be able to
drop in as often as usual. There is a little basket of grapes in the
pantry; you can take it to your grandma; the pear on top grew for
you to eat right now."

Marian needed no second hint, but sought out the