th during
a moment of silence.

"You know enough about Science," she went on, at last, "to be certain that
weeks of an offended manner with Ada would have no effect except to make
her long to punish you. You know that love is reflected in love, and that
its opposite is just as certain to be reflected unless one knows God's
truth."

"But you don't say anything at all about Alma," said Lucy. "She's the chief
one."

Mrs. Berry smiled. "No," she returned gently. "You are the chief one. Just
as soon as your thought is surely right, don't you know that your heavenly
Father is going to show you how to unravel this little snarl? You remember
there isn't any personality to error, whether it tries to fasten on Ada, or
on you."

Lucy sat upright. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her eyes had lost
their excited light. "Frank Morse and I are going to take some pretty
valentines to Alma's as soon as it is dark," she said.

"That will be pleasant. Now let us read over the lesson for to-day again,
and know what a joyous thing life is."

"Well, mother, will you go and see Mrs. Driscoll some time?"

"Certainly I will, Sunday. I suppose she is too busy to see me other days."

In the Singer house another excited child had rushed home from school and
sought and found her mother.

Mrs. Singer had just reached a most interesting spot in the novel she was
reading, when Ada startled her by running into the room and slamming the
door behind her.

"Mother, you know you don't want me to go with the factory people," she
cried.

"Of course not. What's the matter?" returned Mrs. Singer briefly, keeping
her finger between the leaves of her half-closed book.

"Why, Lucy Berry is angry with me, and I don't care. I shall never go with
her again!"

"Dear me, Ada. I should think you could settle these little differences
without bothering me. What has the factory to do with it?"

"Why, there is a new girl at school, Alma Driscoll, and her mother works
there; and she tried to come with Lucy and me, and Lucy would have let
her, but I told her you wouldn't like it, and, anyway, of course we didn't
want her. So to-day when the valentine box was opened, Alma Driscoll got a
'comic;' and she couldn't take a joke and cried and went home. I can't bear
a cry-baby, anyway. And then Miss Joslyn made a fuss about it and _she_
went home, and after that Lucy Berry flared up at me and said she was going
to be friends with Alma after this, and _she_ went