Ida, with a sense of relief, made her escape, and was at once seized upon by Angela Leverton, who took her off to the croquet-ground, where a game was already in progress. But in spite of all the distractions of the occasion, Ida's mind reverted to Cynthia again and again, and she felt a pang of remorse as she thought how ardently her little sister would have enjoyed everything, from the music of the city band to the frantic efforts of the special policeman, who was trying to keep the curious villagers from sitting like blackbirds on the low stone wall skirting the grounds. Aunt Patty and Cynthia sat up to wait Ida's return, and listened with eagerness to her glowing account of the events of the day. "I am _so_ glad you had such a delightful time," Cynthia said, when at last she and Ida were on their way up stairs to their bedrooms, each carrying a lighted candle. Ida paused a moment, looking down at her candle. "I didn't deserve to have a good time," she rejoined, in a low voice; and then, as Cynthia only kissed her with a simple "Good-night," she sighed, and went into her room without further remark. One question from her sister, and she would have thrown her arms around her and confessed all. [CONCLUDED IN NEXT NUMBER.] THROUGH A CANDY-FACTORY. BY BARNET PHILLIPS. To begin at the beginning of a great candy and sugar-plum factory in New York, there was one trait shown by its founder which established its reputation. The man had the same characteristics as had Josiah Wedgwood. In England one hundred years ago pottery was a rude and incomplete business. Josiah Wedgwood made it one of the most classic and elegant of the plastic arts. When Wedgwood went through his vast Burslem work-shops, and noticed a piece of his ware--say a teapot--which was not up to the mark, he took a stick, and he simply smashed it. There was once a baker who made cakes. Occasionally there would be a failure in his batch. The raising of the dough or the baking was defective. That baker never would sell these poor cakes to his customers. He might give them away. What he said was this, "These poor cakes are not a fair equivalent for good money." In time his business prospered because his cakes were the very best. Then he took to candy-making in a small way--only molasses-candy. But what he made was so super-fine that he could hardly meet the demand. Then he made other kinds of candy, with the same success. So his business grew and grew, until to-day this enterprise founded by this baker occupies a large building with many stories in New York, and the motive power for making chocolate, candy, and sugar-plums is a 300-horse steam-engine, and 350 people are employed.