Phebe's face beamed. "Dat soun' lak sumpin," she declared. "Jes' wait till I fetches in dem hot rolls. Dey pipin' hot right out o' de oben. I say hongry," she murmured to herself, as she went clumsily on her errand. The day went well enough. On her way home from school, Linda stopped to ask Bertie to spend the night with her. But Bertie was off to a birthday dance in the country, which meant she would not be back till the next morning. She was "so sorry." If she had "only known," and all that. "But, of course, you can get someone else," she concluded by saying. "Oh, I don't mind staying alone, if it comes to that," Linda told her. "You stay too much alone, Linda." "And I, who am surrounded all day by such a regiment of boys." "Oh, they don't count; I mean girls of your own age. How are you getting along, Linda, by the way?" "Oh, well enough," responded Linda doubtfully. "The more successful I am, the more it takes it out of me, however, and I am afraid I shall really never love teaching. Even though you may succeed in an undertaking, if you don't really love it, you tire more easily than if you did something much harder, but which you really loved." "I suppose that may be true. Well, Linda, I hope you will not always be a teacher." "I hope not," responded Linda frankly. "I wish you would come over oftener, and would go around more with the girls. They would all love to have you." Linda shook her head gravely. "That is very nice for you to say, but I couldn't do it--yet." "Well, be sure you don't stay by yourself to-night," Bertie charged her. Linda promised, and started off to fulfil the intention. Miss Parthy, from her porch, called to her as she went by. "When's Ri coming back?" she asked, over the heads of her three dogs, who occupied the porch with her. "Not till to-morrow morning." "You'd better come over here and sleep," Miss Parthy advised her. "I have an extra room, you know." "And leave dear old Mammy to her lonesome? No, I think I'd better not, Miss Parthy; thank you. I'll get someone to stay." "You can have one of the dogs," offered Miss Parthy quite seriously. "They are better than any watchman." Linda thanked her, but the thought of Brownie's tail thumping on the floor outside her door, or of Pickett's sharp bark, or Flora's plaintive whine, decided her. "I think I'd rather have a human girl, thank you, Miss Parthy, and even if I find no one, it will be all right; I have stayed with only Mammy in the house dozens of times."