Glory ran up the back stairs to the top of the house, and hid away the sweet things in her own room to "make a party" with next day. And then she went down and tented over the crib with an old woolen shawl, and set a high-backed rocking chair to keep the draft from Herbert, and opened the window "a teenty crack." In five minutes the slight freshening of the air and the soothing of the music had sent the boy to sleep, and watchful Glory closed the window and set things in their ordinary arrangement once more. Next morning Herbert made hoarse complaint. "What did you let him do, Glory, to catch such a cold?" asked Mrs. Grabbling. "Nothing, mum, only he would get out of bed to hear the music," replied the girl. "Well, you opened the window, you know you did, and Katie Ryan came over and kept the front door open. And you said how you wished you could go over there and do their chores. I told you I'd tell." "It's wicked lies, mum," burst out Glory, indignant. "Do you dare to tell him he lies, right before my face, you good-for-nothing girl?" shrieked the exasperated mother. "Where do you expect to go to?" "I don't expect to go nowheres, mum; and I wouldn't say it was lies if he didn't tell what wasn't true." "How should such a thing come into his head if you didn't say it?" "There's many things comes into his head," answered Glory, stoutly, "and I think you'd oughter believe me first, when I never told you a lie in my life, and you did ketch Master Herbert fibbing, jist the other day, but." Somehow, Glory had grown strangely bold in her own behalf since she had come to feel there was a bit of sympathy somewhere for her in the world. "I know now where he learns it," retorted the mistress, with persistent and angry injustice. Glory's face blazed up, and she took an involuntary step to the woman's side at the warrantless accusation. "You don't mean that, mum, and you'd oughter take it back," said she, excited beyond all fear and habit of submission. Mrs. Grubbling raised her hand passionately, and struck the girl upon the cheek. "I mean _that_, then, for your impudence! Don't answer me up again!" "No, mum," said Glory, in a low, strange tone; quite white now, except where the vindictive fingers had left their crimson streaks. And she went off out of the room without another word. Over the knife board she revolved her wrongs, and sharpened at length the keen edge of desperate resolution. "Please, mum," said she, in the old form of address, but with quite a new manner, that, in the little dependant of less than fifteen, startled the hard mistress, "I ain't noways bound to you, am I?" She propounded her question, stopping short in her return toward the china closet through the sitting room. "Bound? What do you mean?" parried Mrs. Grubbling, dimly foreshadowing to herself what it would be if Glory should break loose, and go. "To stay, mum, and you to keep me, till I'm growed up," answered Glory, briefly.