"Yes," added Mildred, "you may have to wait on some whom you
invited to your little company last spring. I wish you could find
something to do that would be quiet and secluded."

"Oh, nonsense!" cried Belle impatiently. "We can't hide like bears
that go into hollow trees and suck their paws for half a dozen years,
more or less"--Belle's zoological ideas were startling rather than
accurate--"I don't want to hide and cower. Why should we? We've
done nothing we need be ashamed of. Father's been unfortunate; so
have hundreds and thousands of other men in these hard times. Roger
showed me an estimate, cut from a newspaper, of how many had failed
during the last two or three years--why, it was an army of men.
We ain't alone in our troubles, and Roger said that those who cut
old acquaintances because they had been unfortunate were contemptible
snobs, and the sooner they were found out the better; and I want
to find out my score or two of very dear friends who have eaten
ice-cream at our house. I hope I may have a chance to wait on 'em.
I'll do it with the air of a princess," she concluded, assuming
a preternatural dignity, "and if they put on airs I'll raise
the price of the goods, and tell them that since they are so much
above other people they ought to pay double price for everything.
I don't believe they'll all turn up their noses at me," she added,
after a moment, her face becoming wistful and gentle in its expression
as she recalled some favorites whose whispered confidences and vows
of eternal friendship seemed too recent to be meaningless and empty.

The poor child would soon learn that, although school-girls' vows
are rarely false, they are usually as fragile and transient as
harebells. She had dropped into a different world, and the old one