“Why, no,” said Joyce smiling frankly, “I just saw it as I passed by and it appealed to me. A man was knocking it to pieces. I got there just as he struck the first blow and it shivered like a person, such a pretty little house! I needed a house myself and I asked if I could buy it. They said it had to be taken away at once and finally they agreed to sell it if I took it away in an hour.” “H’m!” said Mrs. Bryant eyeing her thoughtfully, “You were hunting a house were you. Where’d you come from? How’d you happen to come to our town?” Joyce smiled: “I just walked till I came to it I guess. You see my aunt died with whom I have lived since my parent’s death, and I felt as if I could go on living better if I tried a new place, it wouldn’t seem so sad, so when I reached this region I just took a trolley and rode till things looked interesting and then I got off and walked till I came on the little house.” Mrs. Bryant looked interested. Joyce’s story was vague but it intrigued her. Her life had never contained such romance as walking off into the world till you found a place you liked and then camping down there. Joyce was a new kind of girl and she liked her. But she also wanted to satisfy her own curiosity and her sense of the conventions, so she proceeded with her inquisition. Also, it was necessary to have an explanation ready to give at the Ladies’ Aid that afternoon of the new little house that had come to park on her premises. She knew every one would ask about it. She could hear them now, “Whoooo--is she? Wheeer--did--she--come--from? Whoooo--knows--her? Whiiiiiy--is--she--here? Whoo? Tu--Whit, Tu--Whoooo?” for all the world like so many owls. Mrs. Bryant meant to be ready to silence all voices. Her husband was sponsoring this girl by allowing her on his premises, and she was not going to have anything questionable said about her. “What you going to do now you’re here?” she asked abruptly. “Have you got means of your own, or do you have to work?” Joyce flushed but answered without hesitation: “Why, I’ve enough to get along on I think until I get a job. Of course I could have found something easier at home I suppose, but I thought it would be better to make a change. I guess I’ll find something pretty soon. I’ve got to get settled first.” “H’m!” said Mrs. Bryant, “What’s your line? You a stenographer or what?” “What! I guess,” laughed Joyce. “I’ve been aiming to get ready to be a teacher, but I suddenly decided to come away just before the examinations so I guess I’ll have to wait for that. And anyhow it’s almost vacation time. I’d have to do something else until fall of course. I wonder if perhaps I could arrange to take examinations here? I don’t suppose you know when the state examinations come off in your public schools here, do you?”