Sammy hung her head, abashed at his serious tone. “I ’lowed it would be right smart trouble for you,” she said. “But I could let you have Brownie in pay; he ain’t only five year old, and is as sound as a button. He’s all I’ve got, Mr. Howitt. But I’d be mighty proud to swap him to you.” “My girl, my girl,” said the shepherd, “you misunderstand me. I did not mean that. It would be a pleasure to teach you. I was thinking how little you realized what the real life of the city is like, and how much you have that the ‘fine ladies,’ as you call them, would give fortunes for, and how little they have after all that could add one ray of brightness to your life.” Sammy laughed aloud, as she cried, “Me got anything that anybody would want? Why, Dad, I ain’t got nothin’ but Brownie, and my saddle, and—and that’s all. I sure ain’t got nothing to lose.” The man smiled in sympathy. Then slowly a purpose formed in his mind. “And if you should lose, you will never blame me?” he said at last. “Never, never,” she promised eagerly. “Alright, it is a bargain. I will help you.” The girl sprang to her feet. “I knew you would. I knew you would. I was plumb sure you would,” she cried, fairly quivering with life and excitement. “It’s got to be a sure ’nough lady, Dad. I want to be a really truly fine lady, like them Ollie tells about in his letters, you know.” “Yes, Sammy. I understand, a ‘sure enough’ lady, and we will do it, I am sure. But it will take a great deal of hard work on your part, though.” “I reckon it will,” she returned soberly, coming back to her seat. Then drawing her chair a little closer, she leaned toward her teacher, “Begin now,” she commanded. “Tell me what I must do first.” Mr. Howitt carefully searched his pockets for a match, and lighted his pipe again, before he said, “First you must know what a ‘sure enough’ lady is. You see, Sammy, there are several kinds of women who call themselves ladies, but are not real ladies after all; and they all look very much like the ‘sure enough’ kind; that is, they look like them to most people.” Sammy nodded, “Just like them Thompsons down by Flat Rock. They’re all mighty proud, ’cause they come from Illinois the same as the Matthews’s. You’d think to hear ’em that Old Matt couldn’t near run the ranch without ’em, and some folks, strangers like, might believe it. But we all know they ain’t nothing but just low down trash, all the time, and no better than some of them folks over on the Bend.” The shepherd smiled, “Something like that. I see you understand. Now a real lady, Sammy, is a lady in three ways: First, in her heart; I mean just to herself, in the things that no one but she could ever know. A ‘sure enough’ lady does not _pretend_ to be; she _is.”_ Again the girl broke in eagerly, “That’s just like Aunt Mollie, ain’t it? Couldn’t no one ever have a finer lady heart than her.”