Miss Billy, taking in all the pathos of the starved little life, found no words to reply. "But the thing that hurts worst," went on Holly Belle, wiping her tears on her apron, "is that I can't go to school. I had to stop when Mikey was a baby, and then just as I got started again the twins came, and I guess I'll never go back. The teacher came to see maw, an' told her how quick I learned,--but it didn't do no good, an' I'll have to stay right here in this kitchen all the rest of my life." Miss Billy crossed over to the drooping little figure, and put her arm about her. "Keep hoping, Holly Belle," she counselled: "Keep hoping, and keep on trying. I'm sure it will all come out right. I have a solemn conviction that when one wishes hard enough for a thing, it comes to pass. And so I am sure the school days will come again, and the piano and the lessons, too." Holly Belle dried her tears. "You've made me feel almost sure of it, too," she said, with a smile. "I'm thankful for the help you've been to me with the work, Miss Billy,--and I'll send the children over in the morning." * * * * * It was that evening that Theodore, freshly arrayed in the glory of blue serge and starched linen, drew Miss Billy into a secluded corner. His neck, even as Mr. Hennesy had predicted, was burned to a deep red, and the blisters on his hands were hardening into calloused spots,--but there was no self pity in his manner as he handed his sister a five dollar gold piece. "My first week's pay," he announced, proudly: "and thank you very much for the accommodation." "Oh, I'd rather not take it now, Ted," demurred Miss Billy. "Wait until you've earned more." "No indeed," said Theodore proudly. "Next week I shall pay father for my shoes, and after that, every cent of my money goes into the bank. Take it now, or never, Miss Billy." "Well, I'll take it if I must, but I don't want to," grumbled his sister. "Say Ted, Beatrice and I are going over to call on Mr. Schultzsky's niece, Frances Lindsay, this evening. Mother saw her trunk arrive to-day, and thought we ought to. Won't you go with us?" "No, I thank you," said Theodore. "To tell the truth, I've soured on the society of ladies. But if she's handsome, and wealthy, and under thirty, I may relent and call upon her some other evening." "For my part, I think the idea of our going over there is ridiculous," scolded Beatrice. "I wouldn't, if mother didn't insist upon it. It's more than likely she can speak only Bohemian, as that other little niece does, and will run and hide upon our arrival." "Well, we'll go, anyway," said Miss Billy. "Mother is right. The girl will feel very strange and lonely in that old house, and if she can't speak English we can at least shake hands and then sit and smile at her."