at home to consent to any such step will be
the puzzle. As soon as we know about the examination I will have a talk
with your uncle. I think I can persuade him to look upon the plan in the
best light for you, and you can stay here all September."

"But there will be Jenny's wedding about the middle of the month, Aunt
said."

"And on the tenth the High School opens."

"Oh, dear! My schooldays seem a great perplexity," and Helen gave a
vague smile. "Some girls' lives run on so smoothly, but mine appears
full of upsets."

"Take courage and go on. I think it will come out right. But I shall
not make a single plan until you have passed the examination."

Then Mrs. Van Dorn's bell rang.

Helen slipped off her sacque, washed her hands, and suddenly bent down
and kissed Mrs. Dayton's forehead. "Oh," she cried with deep tenderness,
"I wish I had a mother! I wish you were my mother."

Mrs. Dayton looked after her, as she flashed through the dining room.
All her motions were light and rapid, yet she never ran over chairs, or
bumped up against doors or corners. It was a grace born in her, and Mrs.
Dayton wondered that it had not all been wrenched out of her by the
crude bustling life at the Mulfords'. And she wondered how it would seem
to have a daughter growing up who would love her and care for her. Helen
was overflowing with gratitude, and one of the best features of it was
that it abounded in deeds rather than words. She always wanted to do
something in return, she often did it without stopping to inquire, daily
little things that evinced thoughtfulness. After all, her three years'
board would hardly be felt, there would be the summer vacation. Only, if
she should be sent away somewhere to teach afterward. But there would
be three pleasant years. She _could_ afford to do it now, she had gone
past the pinches, and was putting by a little every year.

Mrs. Van Dorn, upstairs on her couch in the comfort of a dressing
sacque, was amusing herself with plans as well. She did like to enjoy
outgeneraling people. And this young Mr. Warfield's confidence rather
piqued her. The same thought had entered her mind that this enthusiastic
girl might repeat her mother's story, and she had a fancy that it had
been one of disappointment.

Years ago the daughter of a cousin, the only relative who had ever
befriended her, after a prosperous married life of a dozen years'
duration, was thrown on her own endeavors for a livelihood, with two