, put a
cheerful cover on that table and a couple of bright sofa pillows on
that lounge, and have some plants in that south window, it will be
very cozy."

"Oh, will you dare?" began Marian and then stopped short. There were
probably no lengths to which a teacher might not be allowed to go,
even by so particular a person as Grandma Otway.

"Why, what is there so very daring about that?" asked Miss Dorothy.
"It isn't like walking a tight-rope, or shooting Niagara Falls in a
canoe." There was a saucy look in her eyes as she spoke, and a
dimple came and went as she strove to keep her face grave.

"It isn't like that, of course," said Marian feebly. "It will be
your own room, and you are a grown-up lady who can do as you please.
I suppose it is only children who don't dare to do things like
moving pictures and putting flower-pots on the window-sills when
they are freshly painted."

Miss Dorothy's merry laugh rang out. "Oh, you dear, transparent
baby. You've spoken volumes in that speech. Now I'm ready to go
down. What shall we do? My trunk will not be here till after the
next train is in, they informed me at the station. I'd like to
see the schoolhouse, but perhaps we'd best wait till morning,
then it can be shown me officially. Could we dare to walk in
the garden if I promise not to race over the borders and
recklessly pull the flowers? Does one dare to leave the
house to do that?" There was a little mocking look in
her eyes as she spoke.

"Oh, yes, of course we can go anywhere we like in the garden,"
returned Marian. "Do come, and I will show you my apple tree. If you
are not afraid to climb you can see the ocean from my seat in the
crotch,--and the mountain, too," she added more soberly.

"Don't suggest mountains yet," said Miss Dorothy, becoming sober
too. "But there, I won't think about mountains; I've always managed
them and I always intend to."

Marian gazed at her with new intentness and drew nearer. "Can you
manage mountains?" she asked wonderingly.

"Why, yes; if you don't make them out of mole-hills it is easy
enough."

Marian pondered over this answer all the way down-stairs, but could
not make head or tail of it. She would ask further when she knew
Miss Dorothy better. She felt quite assured that she would not be
long in feeling as much at home with her as with Mrs. Hunt.

As they passed the kitchen door near which the grim Hepzibah stood,
Miss Dorothy drew her skirts aside and fled down the gard