people like Madame and the Padre and me!"

"You never did have any reasoning power, Mary Virginia," said
Laurence, with brotherly tact. "Our black cat Panch would put it all
over you. Allow me to inform you I'm _not_ biggity, miss! I'm
logical--something a girl can't understand. And I'd like to know what
you think _you're_ going to grow up to be?"

"Oh, let's quit talking about it," she said petulantly. "I hate to
think of growing up. Grown ups don't seem to be happy--and _I_ want to
be happy!" She turned her head, and met once more the absorbed and
watchful stare of the man in the wheel-chair.

"Weren't you sorry when you had to stop being a little boy and grow
up?" she asked him, wistfully.

"Me?" he laughed harshly. "I couldn't say, miss. I guess I was born
grown up." His face darkened.

"That wasn't a bit fair," said she, with instant sympathy.

"There's a lot not fair," he told her, "when you're born and brought
up like I was. The worst is not so much what happens to you, though
that's pretty bad; it's that you don't know it's happening--and
there's nobody to put you wise. Why," his forehead puckered as if a
thought new to him had struck him, "why, your very looks get to be
different!"

Mary Virginia started. "Oh, looks!" said she, thoughtfully. "Now,
isn't it curious for you to say just that, right now, for it reminds