"Diantha has got so much sense, it makes her
blind and deaf," declared Grandmother Stark. "I
call it a shame, if she is my daughter."

"Then you don't venture --"

Grandmother Stark reddened. She did not like
to own to awe of her daughter. "I VENTURE, if that is
all," said she, tartly. "You don't suppose I am
afraid of Diantha? -- but she would not let Amelia
wear one of the dresses, anyway, and I don't want
the child made any unhappier than she is."

"Well, I will admit," replied Grandmother Wheel-
er, "if poor Amelia knew she had these beautiful
dresses and could not wear them she might feel
worse about wearing that homely gingham."

"Gingham!" fairly snorted Grandmother Stark.
"I cannot see why Diantha thinks so much of ging-
ham. It shrinks, anyway."

Poor little Amelia did undoubtedly suffer on that
last day, when she sat among the others gaily clad,
and looked down at her own common little skirts.
She was very glad, however, that she had not been
chosen to do any of the special things which would
have necessitated her appearance upon the little
flower-decorated platform. She did not know of the
conversation between Madame and her two as-