"That girl is actually beautiful, and would look superb in good clothes instead of that simple, dark-blue print gown. How foolish it seems for poor girls to be pretty, when they can have nothing nice to set off their beauty. I suppose they must always be pining for riches. How that poor serving girl must have envied me while sewing on this cape! Well, I suppose Miss Bray will give her perhaps twenty-five cents for the extra work, and that will buy her a new ribbon. She ought to be glad that I made her alter it, giving her a little extra pay from her employer. Of course, she could not expect me to pay her myself. My allowance from papa is much too small to permit me the luxury of charity!" She heard Sophie's light tread, as she returned to the house and muttered: "I hate that maid. I know she tells tales of me to mamma, and that mamma believes everything, instead of scolding her for tattling! Never mind, Miss Sophie; see if I don't pay you off some time for your meddling! And as for giving you those old gowns you've been hinting for so long, I'd stick them into the fire first!" She gathered a rose, pulled it to pieces viciously, as if it had been the pert maid she was demolishing, then sighed impatiently: "Heigh-ho, how slow he is coming!" The gate latch clicked, and she sprang up with a start, her eyes flashing, her heart throbbing with joy. She looked out, and saw the figure of a man coming along the graveled walk. As he came opposite she started forward, crying sweetly: "Oh, Jesse, dear, is that you?" The man stopped and faced her. It was her father, and he laughed merrily: "Not Jesse, dear; but papa, dear!" Roma recoiled in bitter disappointment, and said petulantly: "Jesse promised to come. Have you seen him?" "No, I only walked outside the gates a little way. I saw no one except a very lovely young girl coming from here. Do you know anything about her, Roma?" "If she was dressed like a kitchen maid in a print gown, she was a girl from the dressmaker's who brought home some work," Roma answered carelessly. "I did not notice her dress in the moonlight. I could not keep my eyes from her face, she was so very beautiful," Mr. Clarke replied, somewhat dreamily. Roma shrugged her shoulders scornfully: "A poor girl has no business to be pretty," she exclaimed. Mr. Clarke frowned at the sentiment. "Roma, I do not like to hear you express yourself so heartlessly. You would like to be pretty even if you were poor." "I cannot even imagine myself poor like the common herd!" she retorted, tossing her beautiful head with queenly pride. If she had been looking at the man before her, she must have seen that a strange look came upon his face as his secret thoughts ran sarcastically: "Ignorance indeed is bliss, in this case."