"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Eleanor, with a toss of her handsome head,
"such people never change. There were plenty of such girls in the same
class with me in the public school, and they've all gone off and
married common low fellows. Some of them were real pretty girls while
they were young, too."

"All the more reason why others of the same kind should have some
encouragement to do better, my child."

"But, mother," persisted Eleanor, "what possible good will it do that
Kimper girl for us merely to recognize her in the street?"

"You may do as much more for her as you choose, if you think mere
courtesy is not enough. Eleanor, you are a healthy, happy girl; you
know--and I remember--all a girl's natural fancies and longings. Do you
imagine that being badly born and reared can keep that girl from having
the same feelings? She probably wishes she could dress as well as the
best, attract attention, be respected, have a real fine fellow fall in
love with her--"

"The idea!" exclaimed Eleanor, laughing merrily. "But suppose it were
all true; how can mere notice from us help her? I'm sure the minute we
passed her she made a face and envied me my better clothes."

"You will think differently when you have more experience, my dear.
When I was as young as you, I thought--"

"Oh, mother, there she is again," said Eleanor, "crossing the street;
she's turning right towards us. And," murmured the young lady, after
assuring herself that it was really the same combination of red hair