why
people must be cross when they were so much nicer in a pleasant mood.

Then Aunt Jane began to talk of next year when she should be through
school. She roused suddenly, she "took hold" as people say and found
that life meant something. Perhaps it was the growth out of childhood,
the development of mind; country children were not analytical. She began
to wonder about things, to ask questions that pleased Mr. Warfield and
tormented Aunt Jane, and all these events, more than had come in the
thirteen and a half years before, had happened in this little space of
time. Eight months only.

"Oh dear, I wonder if things, incidents, come this way to all girls. I
wonder if there is a time when you wake up," and she looked steadily at
the sky with its drifts of gray white clouds as if it could answer.

"Well, I do suppose Jenny woke up, too. She wanted to go in the shop and
earn money. Sam doesn't seem very wide awake, though he means to learn a
trade. Yes, I think there must be diverse gifts. Oh, it's just glorious
here! I wish Mrs. Van Dorn could know."

She did know one day before she sailed and her heart thrilled with a
warmth it had not known in a long while. Clara was serene, useful,
patient, but she _did_ lack enthusiasm.

There were steps and voices, gay laughs, some new girls had come, some
old ones rushed out to welcome them. Helen turned and saw her trunks and
began to devote herself to unpacking. There was a best hat in a
compartment. She opened the wardrobe door and on the shelf were two hat
boxes. That was settled. The small articles she laid on the rug, and
lifted out the tray. Then came the gowns and skirts, the shirtwaists and
all the paraphernalia. She found places for them. But here were two very
precious belongings, the Madonna she had once coveted, and a tall vase
of roses with a few fallen leaves so natural that one felt inclined to
brush them off. There was also an extremely fine photograph of Mrs. Van
Dorn. Of course the artist had done his best and turned back the hand of
time; she was not over fifty that day.

Helen was much interested in "settling." There were hooks for her
pictures, so she stood up on a chair and hung them. There were several
pretty table ornaments, her writing desk with its outfit.

Some one tapped at the partly-opened door. She found a bright
rosy-cheeked girl with a fluff of golden red hair, and a laughing face.

"You are one of the new girls," exclaimed a merry voice. "I'