Poor Rhoda felt as if she were being once more torn up by the roots. She had taken her first transplanting hardly enough, but she had, as it were, become settled in the new soil, and had struck out rootlets and tendrils. She had said to herself more than once that it must come to this some day—that of course she must expect to work for her living; but as the days and weeks went on, and nothing was said about a change, the idea had fallen into the background of her mind. She felt herself once more at home; and when Mrs. Mulford mentioned the matter, which she did very kindly, Rhoda burst into tears and cried bitterly. Mrs. Mulford was rather annoyed. She had done her best to find a place for Rhoda, and she disliked anything like a scene. Moreover, she did not quite understand Rhoda's feelings, so she delivered her a little lecture on false pride. "You ought to be thankful for all that has been done for you already," said she, in conclusion. "Come, now, dry up your tears, and look at it like a sensible girl." "I am sure I am thankful," said Rhoda, trying to compose herself. "I know how kind everybody has been, and it was very good in you to find me a nice place; but—but it came over me so suddenly. It seems somehow to make me feel the change more than anything. And I did so want to get an education," said the poor girl, with a fresh burst of tears as the sense of her disappointment overcame her; "I have set my heart on it all my life. I wouldn't care how hard I worked for it." "Yes, yes, I understand," said Mrs. Mulford. "I will try to find you a place where you can work for your board and go to school by and by; but really I think you can't do better than to accept this one at present. It is not so distant but that you can come home pretty often—for you must always consider this house your home, my dear; and the wages are good—two dollars a week. You can be laying up money, you see, and by and by you may be able to accomplish your object. You have a pretty good stock of clothes, have you not?" "Oh yes, ma'am, all I shall want this long time." "And some money beforehand, I think Miss Carpenter said?" "Yes, ma'am—twenty dollars. But I thought perhaps I ought to pay that for my board here." "Oh dear, no!" said Mrs. Mulford, secretly very much pleased with the suggestion. "You have done quite enough to pay for your board since you have been here. I think you had better put your money in the savings bank, as you don't want to use it. Then it will be safe and drawing interest, and one is not so much tempted to spend money when one has to go to the bank for it, as I know by experience," she added, smiling. "I will go to the bank with you and get you a book, and you can deposit what part of your wages you don't want to use; and by and by you will find yourself with quite a little capital—enough to go to school on for some time." "And perhaps I may have time to study where I am going," said Rhoda, brightening up a little at these suggestions.