ime for lunch, girls, and I brought mine along with me, it 's
so much jollier to eat in sisterhood. Let 's club together, and have a
revel," said Kate, producing a bag of oranges, and several big, plummy
buns.

"We 've got sardines, crackers, and cheese," said Bess, clearing off a
table with all speed.

"Wait a bit, and I 'll add my share," cried Polly, and catching up her
cloak, she ran off to the grocery store near by.

"You 'll be shocked at our performances, Miss Shaw, but you can call
it a picnic, and never tell what dreadful things you saw us do," said
Rebecca, polishing a paint knife by rubbing it up and down in a pot of
ivy, while Kate spread forth the feast in several odd plates, and a flat
shell or two.

"Let us have coffee to finish off with; put on the pot, Bess, and skim
the milk," added Becky, as she produced cups, mugs, and a queer little
vase, to supply drinking vessels for the party.

"Here 's nuts, a pot of jam, and some cake. Fan likes sweet things,
and we want to be elegant when we have company," said Polly, flying in
again, and depositing her share on the table.

"Now, then, fall to, ladies, and help yourselves. Never mind if the
china don't hold out; take the sardines by their little tails, and wipe
your fingers on my brown-paper napkins," said Kate, setting the example
with such a relish, that the others followed it in a gale of merriment.

Fanny had been to many elegant lunches, but never enjoyed one more than
that droll picnic in the studio; for there was a freedom about it that
was charming, an artistic flavor to everything, and such a spirit of
good-will and gayety, that she felt at home at once. As they ate, the
others talked and she listened, finding it as interesting as any romance
to hear these young women discuss their plans, ambitions, successes, and
defeats. It was a new world to her, and they seemed a different race
of creatures from the girls whose lives were spent in dress, gossip,
pleasure, or ennui. They were girls still, full of spirits fun, and
youth; but below the light-heartedness each cherished a purpose,
which seemed to ennoble her womanhood, to give her a certain power,
a sustaining satisfaction, a daily stimulus, that led her on to daily
effort, and in time to some success in circumstance or character, which
was worth all the patience, hope, and labor of her life.

Fanny was just then in the mood to feel the beauty of this, for
the sincerest emotion she had ever kn