fect
her like Jack, and she did not like his eyes, which she guessed saw
everything. He had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and the contrast
between Eloise and the gown which he knew must belong to Mrs. Biggs
struck him so forcibly that he could scarcely repress a smile, as he
asked how she had passed the night. Mrs. Biggs answered for her. Indeed,
she did most of the talking.

"She slep' pretty well, I guess; better'n I did when I sprained my ankle
twenty years ago come Christmas. I never closed my eyes, even in a cat
nap, and she did. I crep' to her door twice to see how she was gettin'
on, and she was--not exactly snorin'--I don't s'pose she ever does
snore,--but breathin' reg'lar like, jess like a baby, which I didn't do
in a week when I sprained my ankle."

She would have added "twenty years ago come Christmas," if Jack had not
forestalled her by asking Eloise if her ankle pained her much.

"Yes," she said, while Mrs. Biggs chimed in, "Can't help painin' her,
swelled as 'tis,--big as two ankles; look."

She whisked off the bottom of her dress which Eloise had put over her
foot, and disclosed the shapeless bundle encased in the old felt
slipper.

"Look for yourselves; see if you think it aches," she said.

This was too much for Eloise, who, regardless of pain, drew her foot up
under the skirt of her dress, while her face grew scarlet. Both Howard
and Jack were sorry for her, and at last got the conversation into
another channel by saying they had brought her satchel and hat, which
they feared were ruined, and asking if she had seen the hat Miss Amy had
sent her.

"Land sakes, no! I told her about it, but I hain't had time to show it
to her," Mrs. Biggs exclaimed, starting from the room, while Howard
explained that his cousin had tried in vain to renovate the drenched
hat, and, finding it impossible, had sent one of her own which she
wished Miss Smith to accept with her compliments.

"How do you like it?" Mrs. Biggs asked, as she came in with it.

It was a fine leghorn, with a wreath of lilacs round the crown, and
Eloise knew that it was far more expensive than anything she had ever
worn.

"It is very pretty," she said, "and very kind in the lady to send it.
Tell her I thank her. What is her name?"

Jack looked at Howard, who replied, "She has had a good many, none of
which pleased my uncle, the last one least of all; so he calls her Miss
Amy, and wishes others to do so."

Eloise was puzzled, but the