y her, reward or no. But if so be they
is one, I'll be mighty glad, fer I had pore luck sellin' that hay
to-day."

"Wal, chirk up, Father; mebbe things'll grow brighter soon."

"Mebbe they will, Sary,--mebbe they will."

In her unaccustomed surroundings, Marjorie woke early. The sun was just
reddening the eastern horizon, and the birds were chirping in the
trees.

She had that same sinking of the heart, that same feeling of desolation,
but she did not cry, for her nerves were rested, and her brain
refreshed, by her night's sleep. She lay in her poor, plain bed and
considered the situation.

"It doesn't matter," she said, sternly, to herself, "how bad I feel
about it, it's true. I'm not a Maynard, and never was. I don't know who
I am, or what my name is. And I don't believe I'd better go to Grandma
Maynard's. Perhaps she doesn't know I'm not really her granddaughter,
and then she wouldn't want me, after all. For I'd have to tell her. So I
just believe I'll earn my own living and be self-supporting."

This plan appealed to Marjorie's imagination. It seemed grand and noble
and heroic. Moreover, she was very much in earnest, and in this crisp,
early morning she felt braver and stronger than she had felt the night
before.

"Yes," she thought on, "I ought to earn my living,--for I've no claim on
Fa--on Mr. Maynard. Perhaps these people here can find me some work to
do. At any rate, I'll ask them."

She jumped up, and dressed herself, for she heard Mr. and Mrs. Geary
already in the kitchen.

"My stars!" said her hostess, as she appeared; "how peart you look!
Slept good, didn't ye?"

"Fine!" said Midget; "good-morning, both of you. Can't I help you?"

Mrs. Geary was transferring baked apples from a pan to an old cracked
platter. Though unaccustomed to such work, Marjorie was quick and deft
at anything, and in a moment she had the apples nicely arranged and
placed on the table. She assisted in other ways, and chattered gayly as
she worked.

Too gayly, Mrs. Geary thought, and she glanced knowingly at her husband,
for they both realized Marjorie's flow of good spirits was forced,--not
spontaneous.

After breakfast was over, Midget said, "Now, I'll wash up the dishes,
Mrs. Geary, and you sit down and take a little rest."

"Land sake, child! I ain't tired. An' you ain't used to this work, I see
you ain't."

"That doesn't matter. I can do it, and I must do something to pay for my
board,--I have very little money.