whispered direction, and the little girl brought from a corner cupboard
a pile of pink-and-white china plates, and napkins with pink borders to
correspond. The plates had belonged to Miss Ruth's grandmother, and were
very valuable; but Ruth Elliot believed that nothing was too good to be
used, and that the feast would be more enjoyable for being daintily
served. But when all were helped, she still appeared to think some thing
was wanting, and, after looking round the circle, her glance rested upon
Mollie. The little girl had been unusually quiet ever since her dispute
with Fannie, for she knew very well, though not a word of reproof had
been spoken, that her aunt was not pleased with her. She dropped her
eyes before Miss Ruth's gaze, and grew red in the face; then suddenly
jumping up, she said:--

"I'll go and ask Fan Eldridge to come back, shall I, Auntie? and she may
have any seat she likes; I'm sure I don't care."

"Yes, dear," Miss Ruth said, in the tone Mollie loved best to hear, "and
be quick, do! or the gingerbread will be cold."

Fannie was standing idly at the window looking toward the parsonage,
already repenting of her hasty departure, when Mollie rushed in.

"Come back, Fan, do! we all want you to," she said. "Mamma has sent in
some hot gingerbread, and Sam Ray and Roy Tyler are there, and auntie is
going to tell us about swallow-tailed butterflies, and she doesn't like
to begin without you. Come, now, do! and you may have my seat."

The little girl needed no urging, but her mother interposed.

"Fannie was greatly to blame," Mrs. Eldridge said. "She has told me all