ttle Morgiana prancing
about the room like a brilliant paroquet.

"My stars, ain't you splendid!" was all she could say, holding up two
dusty hands.

"I've got heaps of lovely things upstairs, and I'll show them all to
you, and I'd go halves, only auntie thinks they wouldn't be useful, so
I shall give you something else; and you won't mind, will you? because I
want to adopt you as Arabella was in the story. Won't that be nice?"

"Why, Miss Rose, have you lost your wits?"

No wonder Phebe asked, for Rose talked very fast, and looked so odd in
her new costume, and was so eager she could not stop to explain. Seeing
Phebe's bewilderment, she quieted down and said, with a pretty air of
earnestness,

"It isn't fair that I should have so much and you so little, and I want
to be as good to you as if you were my sister, for Aunt Peace says we
are all sisters really. I thought if I adopted you as much as I can now,
it would be nicer. Will you let me, please?"

To Rose's great surprise, Phebe sat down on the floor and hid her face
in her apron for a minute without answering a word.

"Oh, dear, now she's offended, and I don't know what to do," thought
Rose, much discouraged by this reception of her offer.

"Please, forgive me; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and hope you
won't think--" she faltered presently, feeling that she must undo the
mischief, if possible.

But Phebe gave her another surprise, by dropping the apron and showing
a face all smiles, in spite of tears in the eyes, as she put both arms
round Rose and said, with a laugh and sob,

"I think you are the dearest girl in the world, and I'll let you do
anything you like with me."

"Then you do like the plan? You didn't cry because I seemed to be kind
of patronising? I truly didn't mean to be," cried Rose, delighted.

"I guess I do like it! and cried because no one was ever so good to me
before, and I couldn't help it. As for patronising, you may walk on me
if you want to, and I won't mind," said Phebe, in a burst of gratitude,
for the words, "we are sisters" went straight to her lonely heart and
nestled there.

"Well, now, we can play I'm a good sprite out of the box, or, what is
better, a fairy godmother come down the chimney, and you are Cinderella,
and must say what you want," said Rose, trying to put the question
delicately.

Phebe understood that, for she had a good deal of natural refinement,
though she did come from the poor-house.

"I don'