"No, the others are not Poor Things, you see--that makes all the difference. But that Olga should take the trouble to make Elizabeth do anything is a big step in advance--for Olga." "There is splendid material in Olga, Anne--I am sure of it," Laura returned. There was splendid persistence in her, anyhow. She had undertaken to overcome Elizabeth's fear of the water, but it was a harder task than she had imagined. She did make the Poor Thing wade--clinging tightly to Olga's fingers all the time--but further than that she could not lead her. Day after day Elizabeth would stand shivering and trembling in water up to her knees, her cheeks so white and her lips so blue that Olga dared not compel her to go further. Yet day after day Olga made her wade in that far at least; not once would she allow her to omit it. One day she sat for a long time looking gravely at the Poor Thing, who flushed and paled nervously under that steady silent scrutiny. At last Olga said abruptly, "What do you like best, Elizabeth?" "Like--best----" Elizabeth faltered uncertainly. Olga frowned and repeated her question. Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "I--I like Molly. And the other children--a little." "You mean your brothers and sisters?" Elizabeth nodded. "Which is Molly?" "The littlest one. She's four, and she's real pretty," Elizabeth declared proudly. "She's prettier than Annie Pearson." "Yes, but what do you yourself like?" Olga persisted. "What would you like to have--pretty dresses, ribbons--what?" "I--I never thought," was the vague reply. Again Olga's brows met in a frown that made the Poor Thing shrink and tremble. She brought out her necklace and tossed it into the other girl's lap. "Think that's pretty?" she asked. "O _yes_!" Elizabeth breathed softly. She did not touch the necklace, but gazed admiringly at the bright-coloured beads as they lay in her lap. "You can have one like it if you want," Olga told her. "O no! Who'd give me one?" "Nobody. But you can get it for yourself. See here--I got all those blue beads by learning about the wild flowers that grow right around here, the weeds and stones and animals and birds. You can get as many in a few days. I got that green one for making a little bit of a basket, that--for making my washstand there out of a soap box--that, for trimming my hat. Every bead on that necklace is there because of some little thing I did or made--all things that you can do too." The Poor Thing shook her head. "O _no_," she stammered in her weak gentle voice, "I can't do anything. I--I ain't like other girls." "You can be if you want to," Olga flung out at her impatiently. "Say--what _can_ you do? You can do something." "No--nothing." The Poor Thing's blue eyes filled slowly with big tears, and she looked through them beseechingly at the other. Olga drew a long exasperated breath. She wanted to take hold of the girl's thin shoulders and shake the limpness out of her once for all.