dering anxiously if this little stranger was
going to bring to an end the peace and contentment of the class.
"Is she going to make my poor children realise how poor and shabby their
clothes are, and fill their heads with thoughts of dress?" She said
nothing aloud, however. She was only a little kinder, perhaps, to the
most shabby of them all.

Mona, who had been quite conscious of her teacher's glances, never doubted
but that they were glances of admiration, and was, in consequence,
extremely pleased. She returned home quite elated by her Sunday
afternoon's experiences.

The next day, at about eleven, Lucy started on her three mile walk to her
mother's.

"Isn't it too far for you?" asked Mona, struck anew by her stepmother's
fragile appearance. "Hadn't you better put it off till you're stronger?"

But Lucy shook her head. "Oh, no, I shall manage it. If I go to-day I
shall be able to have a lift home in Mr. Lobb's cart. It's his day.
So I shall only have three miles to walk, and I do want to see mother.
She has been so bad again."

Mona did not try any more to stop her, but bustled around helping her to
get ready. "If you hadn't been going to drive back, I'd have come to meet
you. Never mind, I expect I'll be very busy," and she smiled to herself
at the thought of all she was going to do, and of the nice clean kitchen
and tempting meal she would have ready by the time Mr. Lobb's cart
deposited Lucy at the door again.

"Now, don't do too much, and tire yourself out, dear," said Lucy,
warningly. "There isn't really much that needs doing," but Mona smiled
knowingly.

As soon as Lucy had really started and was out of sight, she washed and
put away the few cups and plates, and swept up the hearth. Then, getting
a little garden fork and an old mat, she sallied forth to the garden.
There certainly were a good many weeds in the path, and, as the ground was
trodden hard, they were not easy to remove. Those in the flower beds were
much easier.

"I'll do the beds first," thought Mona. "After all, that's the right way
to begin." So she dug away busily for some time, taking great care to dig
deep, and lift the roots right out. "While I am about it, I may as well
turn all the earth over to make it nice and soft for the flowers.
I don't know how they ever manage to grow in such hard, caked old stuff,
poor little things."

Here and there a 'poor little thing' came up root and all, as well as the
weed, or inst