“I've found it out, Uncle Em!” said Gloria, in a voice that was not Gloria's. “Found out about Pleasant Street and No. 80.” Not a jot did her voice falter. She was looking straight into her guardian's eyes. “I don't suppose you could have helped it. It was my property and you kept it in trust. But--” There was a little wail, and the girl buried her face in her hands and burst into sobs. “Gloria, don't!” begged Mr. McAndrew, while his wife let the tears of sympathy drip slowly from her face. _“I could have helped it--I could have helped it!_ It is a miserably mean thing.” Mr. McAndrew was drawing his breath sharply. “As you say, the property was left in my trust for you by your father, but I had no need to turn it over to Richards. It should have been fixed up. It serves me right that this has come upon me.” It was the lawyer's voice that broke now. Gloria raised her head and wiped her drenched face. To hear the words her uncle spoke was a relief to her. Still the fact remained. All she had thought to do toward righting a wrong of somebody's must be done to right a wrong that lay at her own door. She tried to stand up bravely under it, this girl who had been sheltered and petted and cared for, but it was a hard task. And then there was the shock to all the dreams she had had of playing Lady Bountiful to another. For a few days she struggled and kept up, but a cold she had taken on the last day of her travel, aggravated by excitement, settled into a downright ailment. Very tenderly they coaxed her to stay within the blankets and among the soft pillows for the first few days, and then she stayed without coaxing. The District Nurse was at her side, and another was placed as substitute on her district. The weeks went by, and gradually the white face took on a tinge of color. Still more weeks went by and the pillows were forsaken for the chair, and gradually Gloria crept back to the life waiting for her. Uncle Em and she had had little snatches of talks. “It shall be straightened; it shall be made beautiful, this crooked way of ours!” her guardian assured her. And Gloria had answered with a smile. In the olden days it would have been a laugh, but Gloria must wait for strength to laugh. It was on a clear early September morning that Uncle Em and Aunt Em took Gloria on her first drive. The small figure of the District Nurse sat beside Aunt Em on the back seat. Gloria sat with Uncle Em. “Which way?” Uncle Em awaited orders. He did not look at Gloria, but Gloria looked at him. Her eyes were shining. “As if you didn't know!” she cried. “As if I hadn't been holding my breath to go to the New Street!” But at the corner, as they were about to turn, she caught at the reins. “No, let's leave that for the dessert, the New Street. I'd rather, after all. We'll go to Dinney's House first, Uncle Em.” [Illustration: “OH, UNCLE EM, NEW EVERYTHING.”]