uld have no more trouble," observed Miss Perkins, who
had just made the grand tour, and had brought home a French maid.

"Perky don't practise as she preaches," whispered Belle to Polly, as
Miss P. became absorbed in the chat of her other neighbors. "She pays
her chamber girl with old finery; and the other day, when Betsey was out
parading in her missis's cast-off purple plush suit, Mr. Curtis thought
she was mademoiselle, and bowed to her. He is as blind as a bat, but
recognized the dress, and pulled off his hat to it in the most elegant
style. Perky adores him, and was mad enough to beat Betsey when she told
the story and giggled over it. Betsey is quite as stylish and ever so
much prettier than Perky, and she knows it, which is an aggravation."

Polly could n't help laughing, but grew sober a minute after, as Trix
said, pettishly, "Well, I 'm sick of hearing about beggars; I believe
half of them are humbugs, and if we let them alone they 'd go to work
and take care of themselves. There 's altogether too much fuss made
about charity. I do wish we could be left in peace."

"There can't be too much charity!" burst out Polly, forgetting her
shyness all at once.

"Oh, indeed! Well, I take the liberty to differ from you," returned
Trix, putting up her glass, and bestowing upon Polly her most
"toploftical stare," as the girls called it.

I regret to say that Polly never could talk with or be near Trix without
feeling irritated and combative. She tried to conquer this feeling, but
she could n't, and when Trix put on airs, Polly felt an intense desire
to box her ears. That eye-glass was her especial aversion, for Trix was
no more near-sighted than herself, but pretended to be because it was
the fashion, and at times used the innocent glass as a weapon with which
to put down any one who presumed to set themselves up. The supercilious
glance which accompanied her ironically polite speech roused Polly,
who answered with sudden color and the kindling of the eyes that always
betrayed a perturbed spirit, "I don't think many of us would enjoy that
selfish sort of peace, while little children starve, and girls no older
than us kill themselves because their dreadful poverty leaves them no
choice but sin or death."

A sudden lull took place, for, though Polly, did not raise her voice, it
was full of indignant emotion, and the most frivolous girl there felt
a little thrill of sympathy; for the most utterly fashionable life does
no