l you. First,
I have made up my mind to take boarders. I was trembling in my shoes
all the while Caroline was here, for fear Aunt Sally would tell her.
She will think it a disgrace to the neighborhood; I'll be ranked with
the shop, but I must do something. We can't sell the house, and it
would break Aunt Sally's heart if we could, for it is all she has."

"I don't think it will hurt the neighborhood, and I hope you will
succeed. I'm sure I should love to board with you."

"Would you really, Alex? Doesn't the house strike you as very forlorn?
I'll tell you what I am going to do," and Miss Sarah launched forth
into an account of how she meant to cut the hall carpet in two and
turn it around so the worn part would come under the stairs. "But dear
me!" she interrupted herself to say, "how absurd to bother you with
all this. It is your turn to say something."

"I like to hear it. I am interested, and my worries are the same old
ones. I do want to learn how to do something to support myself, and
stenography is so--abominably dull. I am angry with myself for finding
it so." Alex rested her chin in her hand, and looked at Miss Sarah
disconsolately across the table.

"I do not believe you were meant for that sort of thing," Miss Sarah
said stoutly. "Of course I can't tell you what you _were_ made for;
but I know what I'd like to do, and that is, keep a shop such as the
one on the corner."

"What would Mrs. Millard say to that?" Alex asked, laughing.

"She can't say much since she was caught there herself. You needn't
tell me curiosity had not something to do with it. But I am forgetting
the other thing I had to tell you. I have made trouble in the Wilbur
household."

"What do you mean? How?"

"I was never more provoked with myself. The other day I happened to be
out on Dean Avenue, and whom should I see going into the Lyles' but
Charlotte Creston. You know that big, showy house near the park. What
possessed me to mention it, I don't know, but I did, one evening when
Caroline and Virginia were here. I knew in a minute something was
wrong. I have an idea Charlotte went without permission."

"Who are the Lyles?" asked Alex.

"Mrs. Lyle was at the glove counter at Mason's years ago; she was then
Maggie McKay, and a vain, pretentious thing. She married a plumber
with a romantic name, and her rise has been rapid. Now, if you and I
could only be plumbers!"

"I remember Charlotte mentioned a Lucile Lyle, and seemed rather