"I'm obliged to you," she said, "but won't your folks be cross?"

"No--and I don't care if they are," said Faith. "Do you think I
could see any one freezing to death without helping them if I
could? It wouldn't be right, especially when my father's a
minister."

"Will you want them back? It's awful cold down at the harbour
mouth--long after it's warm up here," said Lida slyly.

"No, you're to keep them, of course. That is what I meant when I
gave them. I have another pair of shoes and plenty of
stockings."

Lida had meant to stay awhile and talk to the girls about many
things. But now she thought she had better get away before
somebody came and made her yield up her booty. So she shuffled
off through the bitter twilight, in the noiseless, shadowy way
she had slipped in. As soon as she was out of sight of the manse
she sat down, took off the shoes and stockings, and put them in
her herring basket. She had no intention of keeping them on down
that dirty harbour road. They were to be kept good for gala
occasions. Not another little girl down at the harbour mouth had
such fine black cashmere stockings and such smart, almost new
shoes. Lida was furnished forth for the summer. She had no
qualms in the matter. In her eyes the manse people were quite
fabulously rich, and no doubt those girls had slathers of shoes
and stockings. Then Lida ran down to the Glen village and played
for an hour with the boys before Mr. Flagg's store, splashing
about in a pool of slush with the maddest of them, until Mrs.