't believe I have had so much that is hard as most
people have," she owned.

"You are like the princess, you see," murmured the child. "But I
s'pose you feel awfully sorry about your auntie being so poorly? When
mother was sick once I felt as bad _here_ as if I had the stomachache
hard."

Elsie evaded the issue by hoping politely that the little girl's mother
was quite well now.

"Oh, yes, Miss Moss, and does four peopleses' washings besides our
own," Mattie declared. "Father works steady most of the time, but
there's five of us, counting the baby, and--sometimes he gets drunk.
Not so very often, he doesn't, but nobody can ever tell when he will
and when he won't, so mother has to help out. Well, I must go now.
When will I see you?"

Elsie didn't know what to say. Miss Stewart's return had been delayed
from day to day and she had postponed making her decision as to her
course until that matter was settled. Only to-day had she learned that
the librarian would resume her work to-morrow, Saturday, and she
expected to give up her evening to forming her own plans. Until this
moment, she hadn't thought of Mattie as a complication. It didn't seem
possible that one could become so attached to a child of ten years
in--it wasn't yet ten days--that one not only hated to leave her, but
even felt remiss, almost conscience-stricken, in so doing.

"Won't you come to see us, mother and me and the baby--you'll just love
him, Miss Moss, he can pat-a-cake and by-by and almost talk and lots
else, too. Won't you please come?" the child begged.

Even with her arm about the child's shoulders, the incongruity of
calling upon a woman who took in washing came to Elsie Marley--likewise
the fact that she wasn't likely to be in Enderby beyond Monday at the
latest. But she surprised herself and delighted Mattie by suddenly
agreeing to come the next day.

When she spoke of it to Mr. Middleton that night at dinner, expecting
him to be surprised and, perhaps, to protest, she found him interested
and eager.

"Oh, Elsie, that's capital!" he exclaimed. "She's the nicest sort of
woman, Mrs. Howe is. She's hardly more than a girl in spite of that
little brood of five. She gets out very little, and if you would go
around once in a while it would mean a lot to her. Besides, I'm sure
you'll enjoy her."

As Elsie sat in her room by the window that evening, she wondered
whether one visit from a person one is never to see again would mea