Our trustee began an indignant investigation. He wished to know where I got those flowers, and was visibly relieved when he learned that I had not spent the institution's money for them. He next wished to know who Jane might be. I had foreseen that question and decided to brazen it out. "My maid," said I. "Your what?" he bellowed, quite red in the face. "My maid." "What is she doing here?" I amiably went into details. "She mends my clothes, blacks my boots, keeps my bureau drawers in order, washes my hair." I really thought the man would choke, so I charitably added that I paid her wages out of my own private income, and paid five dollars and fifty cents a week to the institution for her board; and that, though she was big, she didn't eat much. He allowed that I might make use of one of the orphans for all legitimate service. I explained--still polite, but growing bored--that Jane had been in my service for many years, and was indispensable. He finally took himself off, after telling me that he, for one, had never found any fault with Mrs. Lippett. She was a common-sense Christian woman, without many fancy ideas, but with plenty of good solid work in her. He hoped that I would be wise enough to model my policy upon hers! And what, my dear Judy, do you think of that? The doctor dropped in a few minutes later, and I repeated the Hon. Cyrus's conversation in detail. For the first time in the history of our intercourse the doctor and I agreed. "Mrs. Lippett indeed!" he growled. "The blethering auld gomerel! May the Lord send him mair sense!" When our doctor really becomes aroused, he drops into Scotch. My latest pet name for him (behind his back) is Sandy. Sadie Kate is sitting on the floor as I write, untangling sewing-silks and winding them neatly for Jane, who is becoming quite attached to the little imp. "I am writing to your Aunt Judy," say I to Sadie Kate. "What message shall I send from you?" "I never heard of no Aunt Judy." "She is the aunt of every good little girl in this school." "Tell her to come and visit me and bring some candy," says Sadie Kate. I say so, too. My love to the president, SALLIE. March 13. MRS. JUDY ABBOTT PENDLETON, Dear Madam: Your four letters, two telegrams, and three checks are at hand, and your instructions shall be obeyed just as quickly as this overworked superintendent can manage it. I delegated the dining room job to Betsy Kindred. One hundred dollars did I allow her for the rehabilitation of that dreary apartment. She accepted the trust, picked out five likely orphans to assist in the mechanical details, and closed the door. For three days the children have been eating from the desks in the schoolroom. I haven't an idea what Betsy is doing; but she has a lot better taste than I, so there isn't much use in interfering.