have often thought there was something
familiar in her face, but never dreamed who she was. That hateful Miss
Day! as I used to call her; Elsie, I wouldn't do a thing for her, if I
were you. Why she treated you with absolute cruelty."

"She was sometimes unjust and unkind," said Mrs. Travilla, smiling at her
friend's vehemence, "but probably my sensitiveness, timidity and
stupidity, were often very trying."

"No such thing!--if you will excuse me for contradicting you--everybody
that knew you then, would testify that you were the sweetest, dearest,
most patient, industrious little thing that ever was made."

Elsie laughed and shook her head, "Ah, Lucy, you always flattered me;
never were jealous even when I was held up to you as a pattern an evidence
that yours was a remarkably sweet disposition. Now, tell me, please, if
you know anything about these Gibsons?"

"Not much; they came to that hut years ago, evidently very poor, and quite
as evidently--so report says--having seen better days. The husband and
father drank deeply, and the wife earned a scanty support for the family
by sewing and knitting; that is about all I know of them, except that
several of their children died of scarlet fever within a few days of each
other, soon after they came to the neighborhood, and that a year ago last
winter, the man, coming home very drunk, fell into a snow-drift, and next
day was found frozen to death. I was told at that time they had only two
children--a son who was following in his father's footsteps, and this
daughter."

"Poor woman!" sighed Elsie, "she is sorely tried and afflicted. I must go
to her at once."

"Do, mamma, and get a doctor for her," said little Elsie; "she looked so
sick and miserable."

Mrs. Ross offered her carriage, and the shower having cooled the air,
Elsie went, shortly after the conclusion of the meal.

CHAPTER NINTH.

"I'll not chide thee;
Let shame come when it will, I do not call it."
--SHAKESPEARE.

"I never saw such a likeness in my life!" said Mrs. Gibson looking after
the phaeton as it drove away; "she's the very image of her mother. I could
just have believed it was the very little Elsie Dinsmore I used to teach
more than twenty years ago."

"She's lovely!" exclaimed Sally with enthusiasm. "Mother, did you see what
a pretty watch she had?"

"Yes," gloomily; "some folks seem to have nothing but prosperity, and
others nothing