"Nein! nein!" cried Lena, indignantly. "I make mit de sickles myself by and bye, ven I got of de times. I vork youst so well as any mans on de grass! Dot is not for you, my Herr Mister; dot is for me. Und you don't see alretty yet vat I got in dose gartens. You come with me, Miss Ladies--I show!" and all one broad, flat laugh, she led Sybil and Dorothy to the rear of the house, and proudly pointed to a freshly dug garden bed. "Why!" cried they, "who did it?" and "Oh, Lena, did you make a bargain beforehand?" asked the sadly experienced young Dorothy. But Lena laughed and laughed and pounded her knee so vigorously that the girls fairly winced at sight of the blows. Then joyously, if slangily, she explained: "Dot mash-man, he do dot diggins--youst for me. Und he say he do more to-morrow. Und Sunday I rake 'em fine, dot bed, und put in der seeds, und behold, der vill be a garten one of dose days. Vat you tink, eh?" Both the girls had very bright eyes. They looked at each other. Sybil started to unfasten the pretty belt she wore, but Dorothy shook her head warningly, then put her hand up and drew from her hair a little side-comb. "Wait!" cried Sybil, and she took out one of hers, and with much laughter saw Lena proudly place the combs in her own flaxen locks; and as the maid returned to her endless work, Sybil exclaimed: "What a nature! what a good-hearted creature!" "And yet," laughed Dorothy, "how mercenary in her treatment of her 'mash-man'! Oh, Sybil, where do you suppose she got that word? Poor thing, I did not dare let you give her the belt, dear, because we have but the one between us, just now. But here is the other comb--yes, take it! Your hair is heavier than mine. Oh, Sybil, darling girl, don't, oh, don't cry! Things will come right, somehow--only wait!" "I can't! I--I won't!" cried Sybil. "The shame, the mortification of accepting help from that poor, overworked little German girl, who coquets with a laborer for our benefit--oh, it sickens one! Dorrie, I'm going to tell papa, right out, straight and plain, that I'm going on the stage! There--I can at least earn my own living, if I can't win fame. I know he will be terribly upset, but I'll say--that----" "Suppose," gently suggested the practical Dorothy, "that we finish the curtains, Sybil dear, and you can tell me all about what you intend saying to papa while we sew!"