"It is no mistake," she said. "Of course I wish to support myself. Just now I could hardly be spared from Dot." "Oh, as for that—I don't know about the 'sparing!' It isn't much of a question of 'sparing,' I take it. Not but what Mrs. Cragg has been a kind friend to you, I make no doubt; but all the same, it isn't likely she should want to have your father's daughter with her child." Pattie looked at Mrs. Smithers, with eyes that had a sharp light in them. "I don't understand." Mrs. Smithers tossed her head. "It's nothing so very hard to understand," she said. "Only, you do give yourself an uncommon lot of airs, Pattie; and when one comes to know that your father was turned off from his situation for being light-fingered —why, then, of course—" "If Mrs. Cragg has told you that—" "Oh, I didn't say it was Mrs. Cragg. I didn't say it was anybody in particular. But the tale's going about, and folks believe it. It don't matter who said it first. It was somebody that knows. You've been uncommon close about yourself, ever since you came here; but that sort of thing is sure to come out. And it isn't to be wondered at neither that Mrs. Cragg don't like a girl of your stamp to be in the house as one of themselves." Pattie had grown white, but she did not lose her composure. "Mrs. Cragg, of course, has told you," she said. "No one else could do so. Mrs. Cragg does know that my father was accused—wrongly accused of what he did not do. Some day the truth will come out, and my dear father's name will be cleared. I did not think that Mrs. Cragg would have done this. But—you of course cannot understand. I would rather not talk any more about it to you, if you please." Pattie turned away and walked on. She felt like a bruised creature, longing to hide herself. [Illustration: "YOU'VE BEEN UNCOMMON CLOSE ABOUT YOURSELF."] For a while she could not think of Dot, could not remember anything except that the place now knew of her father's trouble, and that nobody would believe him to be innocent—nobody except Mr. Cragg. It was hard to bear. That Mrs. Cragg should have acted in such an unfeeling way, just when she was doing her utmost, spending all her time and strength on behalf of Dot, seemed almost beyond belief. Pattie made her way into the meadow, and sat on a fallen log, tears running down her cheeks, and no recollection of flowers in her mind. It was very, very hard. Though not naturally resentful, resentment for once rose high, and she almost felt that she could not go on any longer under the same roof with Mrs. Cragg. Yet, to leave little Dot to Mrs. Cragg's care; to sheer off, for her own sake only, and not to help Cragg in his difficulty! Impossible! No; not for her own sake only, but for the sake of her father's good name! That was where Mrs. Cragg's conduct most sharply stung.