ly. "Beside, what good reason
would she have for doing such a thing? She knows I am just wild for an
education. There are so many splendid knowledges in the world," and the
girl's face was brilliant with eagerness.

"You've changed some way, Helen. I guess you always were a little
different, though." Jenny seemed studying her from head to foot. "You're
taller. My, if you had on long skirts, you'd be a young lady."

"I just want to be a girl for ever so long. Mrs. Van Dorn doesn't want
me grown up."

"And I went in the shop when I was only half-past fourteen," laughing.
"I made mother let me wear long skirts, and when I was fifteen Joe began
to come round and bring me home from cottage meeting and singing school,
but his mother didn't like it a bit. She wouldn't have let him marry if
she had lived, but I was willing to wait and that maddened her. Now if
she'd been nice, I'd a' been real glad to have her round. And I say to
mother, don't you be getting cranky and snappy so as no one will want to
live with you when you get old. Isn't that Mrs. Van Dorn rather queer?"

"She is so bright and intelligent, and has traveled about so much and
read almost everything. Why I've learned about countries and their
government, and what they do at Washington, and about Congress and our
own capital, and the cities and towns that have mayors, and boroughs,
and villages."

"Oh dear, all that would set me crazy!" interrupted Jenny, holding up
her hand in entreaty. "I guess you _do_ take after your father. Well my
life suits me best. Just imagine me marrying a man like Mr. Warfield!
Why I shouldn't know what to do--I'd rather work in the shop and have
fun with the girls. But if all these things suit you, you ought to have
them, when they are offered out and out to you."

"I am glad _you_ think so;" and she gave Jenny's arm a caressing little
squeeze.

"And I do hope you won't get so big feeling that you will be too grand
to notice us. I'd like you to come next summer in vacation and make me a
nice long visit. I think I'll be able to stand book learning for a
while;" with her rather boisterous laugh. "And oh, you won't forget to
write to father."

"No indeed," with tender warmth. "I never loved Uncle Jason so much as
this last summer, though he's always been good to me."

"And he thinks a mighty sight of you, I can tell you," returned Jenny.

Then they walked homeward. There was a great ado bidding Helen good-by.
Aunt Jane gave he