The meal was begun in a profound silence which she was the first to break. "Ther's some hot biscuits out thar," with a jerk of the head toward the kitchen door. "You may bring some in," said Mrs. Keith. "Just let one o' your gals do it this time, I will next. Turn about fair play you know." Mildred's eyes flashed, and she opened her lips to speak; then closed them firmly as she thought of the consequences to her mother and aunt should this girl be sent away before she was able to take up even a part of the burden of the work. "I'll go, mother," said Zillah, hastily leaving her place, "I don't mind it; but if I were paid for doing it, I would want to earn my money by doing it myself." "Well, my dear, what do you think of your new help?" queried Mr. Keith, mischievously when they had withdrawn to the privacy of the parlor. "The thorn is rather large and sharp," she answered laughing, "but we are not the only people in the world who must make a choice of evils." "For my part," said Mildred severely, "I think it's a species of dishonesty to take pay for doing the work of a family and then ask them to do it themselves." "Aren't you a trifle too hard on her, dear?" said Miss Stanhope. "It was very forward and impertinent, but I think hardly dishonest, because she is not expected to do quite all the work of the family." "Here comes Emmaretta Lightcap," said Ada, who was standing in the open doorway. "She has an old faded calico dress, and sunbonnet and bare feet, just as usual; and a tin pan in her hands." "Come in, Emmaretta." The little girl stepped over the threshold and approaching Mrs. Keith said, "Here's more tomats mother sent you and a bird for her," pointing to Mildred, "Gote he's been out shootin' and he sent it to her." "He's very kind, take him my thanks for it," said Mildred, coloring, and vexed with herself for doing so. "Please tell your sister, too, that I thank her for the tomatoes and that I liked them very much." "Are you a comin' to our school? cause Miss Damaris, she said you was," said the child, turning to Ada, while waiting for her pan, which Zillah had carried away to empty it. "No! no, indeed!" cried Ada; "I don't like her, and wouldn't go there for anything!" "Hush, hush, Ada! you don't know Miss Drybread," said Mrs. Keith, quite surprised at the outbreak. "Yes, mother; don't you remember she was here one day?" "Rhoda Jane, she's comin' over to see you this evenin'," said the little maid, taking her pan and departing. Mildred's countenance fell; she appreciated Rhoda Jane's kindness; but could not enjoy her society. "Why, Ada," said Mr. Keith, "I knew nothing of your dislike to Miss Drybread; and so when she met me in the street this morning and asked me to send her a scholar, I thought of Milly's sickness and that she must not have so much to do, and promised that you should go." "O father!" exclaimed the child beginning to cry.