156 



HOME AND FLOWERS 



that I care two cents for what they say/' 

 added Miss Betty, with a scowl of defiance 

 at public opinion. "But — I don't s'pose 

 I c'n help myself. She's comin', an' I'll 

 have to put up with it. But I'll bet, she 

 wouldn't ha' come if I'd ha' known suthin' 

 about matters 'n' things af orehand. That's 

 where 'Cindy got the start o' me. It's a 

 real Graham trick — jest one o' their under- 

 hand ways o' doin' things. I always knew 

 'Cindy was like the rest of 'em, but I 

 didn't s'pose she'd ever r\u the start o' 

 me in this way. That's wliat riles me up 

 more'n an3^thing else — bein' got the start 

 of so 'thout so much as sayin' by your 

 leave." 



On the following Monday Miss Betty 

 was in the garden at work when she heard 

 a wagon coming down the hill. She looked 

 around to see who might be going by. It 

 was evidently a livery turnout that she 

 saw, with a man and a rirl in it, and a 

 small trunk behind the seat. 



"That's her!" exclaimed Miss Betty, 

 straightening herself stiffly, and putting 

 on one of her severest looks. "Dear m.e! 

 I jest feel's ef I couldn't have her !" 



The wagon stopped by the gate, and the 

 driver called out : 



"Hello, Mis' Peabody! I s'pose you're 

 expectin' a visitor, ain't ye? Wall, here 

 she is." 



"I ain't blind," responded Miss Betty, 

 sharply. "I see she's here, 'thout any need 

 o' your tellin' me of it." 



"She's a real bright little thing," said 

 the liveryman, ignoring Miss Betty's sharp 

 words. "She's been a-tellin' me as we 

 drove along, that her ma sent her to live 

 with ye. Nice little thing, she is, Mis' 

 Peabod}^ — smart an' chipper as any girl 

 of her size I've seen in a long time. She'll 

 be a sight o' comp'ny fer ye. I'd like such 

 a little girl myself." 



"Then you'd better take her right 

 along," said Miss Betty, curtly. "I'm 

 sure I ain't hankerin' after her." 



The little girl had been helped down 

 from the wagon by this time, and had 

 ventured inside the gate. There she 



paused, looking at Miss Betty in a help- 

 less, appealing way. Evidently she had 

 expected a warmer welcome, and the chill- 

 ing atmosphere her aunt had surrounded 

 herself with seemed to freeze her with 

 fear. She looked half inclined to run away. 



"Well, why don't you come in?" said 

 Miss Betty, in her harshest tone. "Or do 

 ye calcilate to camp down in the yard for 

 the rest o' yer nat'ral life, an' hev yer 

 vittels bro't to ye?" 



The child seemed to make a great effort 

 to restrain herself, but failed in it. The 

 poor, lonely, sorrowful heart yearned for 

 a word of welcome, for a kind look, and 

 a kiss. But her aunt had none of these 

 for her, and suddenly her feelings over- 

 came her, and she burst into tears. 



"Fer the lan's sake !" cried Miss Betty, 

 angrily. "Ef there's anything I hate, it's 

 a young one that's always a-cryin' ! Stop 

 it! I won't have it ! Ef you're goin' to 

 live with me you'll have to git over that, 

 I c'n tell ye, an' the sooner ye do it the 

 better it'll be fer 3^0." 



"Oh, mother, mother," the little girl 

 sobbed, as if her heart were breaking. "I 

 want my mother, I want my mother !" 



"What's the use 0' goin' on like that, 

 now?" demanded Miss Bettj^, wrathfully. 

 "Your mother's dead, an' you can't have 

 her, so what's the sense 0' making' such a 

 fuss about it? Come into the house, an' 

 take off yer things, 'n' have somethin' to 

 eat." 



"I wou^ldn't be hard on her if I was you. 

 Mis' Peabody," said the man who had 

 brought the little girl to ]\Iiss Betty's, with 

 a good deal of pity for the child expressed 

 in his face. "She's all tired out with her 

 long journe}^, an' of course she hain't got 

 over missin' her mother yit." 



"Much obleeged for yer advice," re- 

 sponded Miss Betty, in one of her most 

 vinegary tones. "But I don't happen to 

 be in need of it jest now, so it's kind 0' 

 wasted on me. Here's the pay fer bringin' 

 the girl from town. Good afternoon," 

 and the man felt himself dismissed. 

 (To he continued.) 



