"Well, I heard the matron tell a lady who chose Nelly Brian that she always thought _I_ came of high folks because I was so different from the others, and my ways was nice, and my feet so small,--see if they ain't,"--and, slipping them out of the rough shoes she wore, Patty held up two slender little feet with the arched insteps that tell of good birth. Miss Murry laughed right out at the innocent vanity of the poor child, and said, heartily, "They are small, and so are your hands in spite of work, and your hair is fine, and your eyes are soft and clear, and you are a good child I'm sure, which is best of all." Pleased and touched by the praise that is so pleasant to us all, yet half ashamed of herself, Patty blushed and smiled, put on her shoes, and said, with unusual animation,-- "I'm pretty good, I believe, and I know I'd be much better if I only could get out. I do so long to see trees and grass, and sit in the sun and hear birds. I'd work real hard and be happy if I could live in the country." "What can you do?" asked Miss Murry, stroking the smooth head and looking down into the wistful eyes fixed upon her. Modestly, but with a flutter of hope at her heart, Patty told over her domestic accomplishments, a good list for a thirteen-year-older, but Patty had been drilling so long she was unusually clever at all sorts of house-work as well as needle-work. As she ended, she asked, timidly,-- "Did you come for a girl, ma'am?" "My sister did; but she has found one she likes, and is going to take her on trial," was the answer that made the light fade out of Patty's eyes and the hope die in her heart. "Who is it, please?" "Lizzie Brown, a tall, nice-looking girl of fourteen." "You won't like her I know, for Lizzie is a real ----;" there Patty stopped short, turned red, and looked down, as if ashamed to meet the keen, kind eyes fixed on her. "A real what?" "Please, ma'am, don't ask; it was mean of me to say that, and I mustn't go on. Lizzie can't help being good with you, and I am glad she's got a chance to go away." Miss Murry asked no more questions; but she liked the little glimpse of character, and tried to brighten Patty's face again by talking of something she liked. "Suppose your 'folks,' as you say, never come for you, and you never find your fortune, as some girls do, can't you make friends and fortune for yourself?" "How can I?" questioned Patty, wonderingly. "By taking cheerfully whatever comes, by being helpful and affectionate to all, and wasting no time in dreaming about what may happen, but bravely making each day a comfort and a pleasure to yourself and others. Can you do that?" "I can try, ma'am," answered Patty, meekly. "I wish you would; and when I come again you can tell me how you get on. I think you will succeed; and when you do, you will have found a fine fortune, and be sure of friends. Now I must go; cheer up, deary, your turn must come some day."