stillness of daybreak that made the girl's heart go out to poor
Nettie, just like the timid little sunbeams went out over the waters,
trying to do their small part in lighting up a day.

"I'll just put the lilies out in the dew," Nan went on to herself,
raising the window quietly, for the household was yet asleep.
"Perhaps I'll find someone sick or lonely to-morrow who will like
them, and it will be so much better if they bring joy to someone, for
they are so sweet and pretty to die just for me."

"Oh!" screamed Nan the next minute, for someone had crept up behind
her and covered her eyes with hands. "It is you, Dorothy!" she
declared, getting hold of the small fingers. "Did I wake you with the
window?"

"Yes, indeed, I thought someone was getting in from the piazza. They
always come near morning," said Dorothy, dropping down on the cushions
of the window seat like a goddess of morn, for Dorothy was a beautiful
girl, all pink and gold, Bert said, excepting for her eyes, and they
were like Meadow Brook violets, deep blue. "Did you have the
nightmare?" she asked.

"Nightmare, indeed!" Nan exclaimed. "Why, you told me the sun would
rise under my window and I got up to---"

"See it do the rise!" laughed Dorothy, in her jolly way. "Well, if I
had my say I'd make Mr. Sol-Sun wear a mask and keep his glare to
himself until respectable people felt like crawling out. I lower my
awning and close the inside blinds every night. I like sunshine in
reasonable doses at reasonable hours, but the moon is good enough for