Our friend Anna came home from school one day with her sunny face all in
a cloud, and looking as if it might presently get a sprinkling of tears.
There was one to whom she always went in trouble, besides that other One
whom she tried never to forget, and she sought her best earthly friend
now.

"Mother, I do think it is really mean and rude in the Wilsons that they
pass me by when nearly all the class of girls are invited. I don't want
to feel bad about such a thing, but I can't help it. I don't know as
anybody likes to be slighted."

"Of course not, my daughter," said Mrs. Jones; "the feeling of having
been rudely treated is always uncomfortable. What do you suppose is the
reason you are not included in the party?"

"It is because the Wilsons feel above us, mother. The girls dress in
finer clothes than I do, and have more accomplishments; and then we work
for a living, and they do not. But, mother, I believe I am as
intelligent and well-bred as they. I can't bear it, mother."

"It is not pleasant, to be sure, Anna; but think again, darling, before
you say you _can not_ bear it."

"Well, mother, who could? Nobody but you, who seem to have a way of
getting round hard places, or walking through them."

"I have had many more years of experience in life than you. But I wish
you to think now whether there is not some way for you to bear this
little vexation."