“Say, Content, that is an awful name, but I don't care. You're only a girl. You can call me anything you want to, but you mustn't call me Solly when there is anybody within hearing.” “I won't.” “Because it wouldn't do,” said Jim with weight. “I never will, honest,” said Content. Presently they went into the house. Dr. Trumbull was there; he had been talking seriously to the rector and his wife. He had come over on purpose. “It is a perfect absurdity,” he said, “but I made ten calls this morning, and everywhere I was asked about that little Adams girl's big sister--why you keep her hidden. They have a theory that she is either an idiot or dreadfully disfigured. I had to tell them I know nothing about it.” “There isn't any girl,” said the rector, wearily. “Sally, do explain.” Dr. Trumbull listened. “I have known such cases,” he said when Sally had finished. “What did you do for them?” Sally asked, anxiously. “Nothing. Such cases have to be cured by time. Children get over these fancies when they grow up.” “Do you mean to say that we have to put up with big sister Solly until Content is grown up?” asked Sally, in a desperate tone. And then Jim came in. Content had run up-stairs. “It is all right, mother,” said Jim. Sally caught him by the shoulders. “Oh, Jim, has she told you?” Jim gave briefly, and with many omissions, an account of his conversation with Content. “Did she say anything about that dress, Jim?” asked his mother. “She said her aunt had meant it for that out-West rector's daughter Alice to graduate in, but Content wanted it for her big sister Solly, and told the rector's wife it was hers. Content says she knows she was a naughty girl, but after she had said it she was afraid to say it wasn't so. Mother, I think that poor little thing is scared 'most to death.” “Nobody is going to hurt her,” said Sally. “Goodness! that rector's wife was so conscientious that she even let that dress go. Well, I can send it right back, and the girl will have it in time for her graduation, after all. Jim dear, call the poor child down. Tell her nobody is going to scold her.” Sally's voice was very tender. Jim returned with Content. She had on a little ruffled pink gown which seemed to reflect color on her cheeks. She wore an inscrutable expression, at once child-like and charming. She looked shy, furtively amused, yet happy. Sally realized that the pessimistic downward lines had disappeared, that Content was really a pretty little girl. Sally put an arm around the small, pink figure. “So you and Jim have been talking, dear?” she said. “Yes, ma'am,” replied little Content. “Jim is my big brother--” She just caught herself before she said Solly. “And your sister Solly is married and living out West?” “Yes,” said Content, with a long breath. “My sister Solly is married.” Smiles broke all over her little face. She hid it in Sally's skirts, and a little peal of laughter like a bird-trill came from the soft muslin folds.