Not dust, heat, nor weariness could hide the persuasive charm of
Patricia's quick upward smile.

Before that smile Miss Jane, who was very soft-hearted, wavered; but
Miss Susan shook her head resolutely. "Augusta would never hear of it
for one moment!"

"Is Augusta your cook?" Patricia asked. Cooks were that way sometimes;
even Sarah had her moments of revolt--so far as Patricia was concerned.

"Augusta is our cat," Miss Jane explained. She felt grateful to Susan,
and sorry for Patricia.

Patricia sighed; she had recognized the finality in Miss Susan's tone.
"Do you know of any one who would like a dog," she asked, "a very nice
dog?"

"You might try the Millers'," Miss Jane suggested.

"I--I don't believe Mrs. Miller would care for him," Patricia answered,
hurriedly. She turned to go. "Why, where is he?"

"Perhaps he's waiting outside in the road for you." Miss Susan was not
ordinarily so inhospitable, but the minister was coming to supper that
evening; and, like Martha of old, Miss Susan was burdened with many
cares.

Patricia sighed again; the road outside the low white fence seemed
suddenly very long and sunny. She was tired and discouraged; above all,
she was hungry.