lovely and warm in winter.

Eliza was sewing patchwork, not because it was needed but simply as
a protest against the frivolous lace Catherine was crocheting. Eliza
listened with a frown and Catherine with a smile, as the girls explained
their errand. To be sure, whenever Catherine caught Eliza's eye she
discarded the smile in guilty confusion; but it crept back the next
moment.

"If I had money to waste," said Eliza grimly, "I'd burn it up and have
the fun of seeing a blaze maybe; but I wouldn't give it to that hall,
not a cent. It's no benefit to the settlement . . . just a place for young
folks to meet and carry on when they's better be home in their beds."

"Oh, Eliza, young folks must have some amusement," protested Catherine.

"I don't see the necessity. We didn't gad about to halls and places when
we were young, Catherine Andrews. This world is getting worse every day."

"I think it's getting better," said Catherine firmly.

"YOU think!" Miss Eliza's voice expressed the utmost contempt. "It
doesn't signify what you THINK, Catherine Andrews. Facts is facts."

"Well, I always like to look on the bright side, Eliza."

"There isn't any bright side."

"Oh, indeed there is," cried Anne, who couldn't endure such heresy in
silence. "Why, there are ever so many bright sides, Miss Andrews. It's