o go, perhaps I can take you. How would that do? I will see
Mrs. Horner after church, and we'll try and arrange it."

And so it was settled that Edna should go with Miss Martin to the Home
the next afternoon. In the meantime it was a great temptation to have
the pretty doll so near and not resist the temptation of being a
little envious of it. Many a peep was taken at the fine lady laid away
in state in one of Edna's bureau drawers; but the child was honorable
enough not to run the risk of spoiling the freshness of her attire by
taking her out of her place.

"I think you were a goose not to try for the doll yourself," said
Louis.

"O, Louis!" replied Edna. "I never could have had all those votes, and
besides I have Moggins, so you see I ought to make up to Maggie for
that."

"Well, that's so," replied Louis. "Anyhow I am glad that that stuck-up
Clara Adams did not get her."

Edna was thoughtful. "So am I," she confessed. "But," she added, "I
heard Miss Martin say, 'Poor Clara Adams, I'm very sorry for that
child.'"

"Poor!" exclaimed Louis. "I don't know where you get your rich people
from if she's poor. I reckon Miss Martin doesn't know what she's
talking about."

"I'm going to ask her," declared Edna. And true to her word she did
ask, that very afternoon, "What made you say, 'Poor Clara Adams,' Miss
Martin?"

"Did I say that? Well, dear, she is a very poor little girl; with all
her rich clothes and her ornaments there is one ornament which I am
afraid she will never be able to wear."

Edna opened her eyes. "What is it, Miss Martin?" she asked, wondering
if Clara were in any way deformed so she could not wear rings.

Miss Martin smiled. "Did you never hear about the ornament of a meek
and quiet spirit?" she said.

"O," returned Edna, only half understanding.

"Clara is a restless, discontented, envious little girl," continued
Miss Martin; "and although her mother and father come to church every
Sunday, and give liberally to charities, their little girl is not
taught to find happiness by thinking of others rather than of herself,
and so that poor little self of hers often feels as much neglected as
Maggie Horn ever did."

"But Clara isn't neglected," interposed Edna.

"She thinks she is, unless some one is paying attention to her all the
time. She wants to be noticed and considered and amused from morning
till night, and feels slighted at being set aside for a single
instant. So you see she is a litt