"Is it yourself, miss?" asked Mrs. Baker, the storekeeper, smiling kindly into the sweet, childish face. "I feel right sure we could get along nicely together if you're willing to make the trial, though to be sure you're rather young."

"Oh, I should like to," returned Ethel in eager delight. "I--I'm an orphan, and have a dear little brother and two little sisters, and I want to earn something to make a home for us all, so that we can be together and be independent."

"That's right; independence is a grand thing. But if it's not an impertinent question, where and how do you live now?" asked Mrs. Baker, with a look of keen interest.

"We have two very kind uncles who give us homes--two of us in one house and two in the other. We see each other every day, but that's not just the same as living together."

"Well, but, dear child, you couldn't support four--yourself and two others."

"Not now, but maybe after a while, if--if I learn how to make money and work very hard and don't spend any more than is really necessary."

"Your wish to do all that does you a deal of credit, but I'm afraid you can hardly accomplish so much. My husband is gone to the war, and it's almost more than I can do to make a living for mother and the children and myself. So you see I couldn't pay a big salary to a young thing like you or to anybody; especially till you, or whoever it was, had learned something of the business."

"Oh, no, certainly not! But I'd willingly work for a little till I learn enough to be really worth more," returned Ethel half breathlessly; for she seemed to see some hope--some prospect of an opportunity to begin her long-desired effort to attain to the little home she and Blanche, Harry and Nannette, had been talking of for years.

"Well, I like your looks, and--perhaps we might try it," Mrs. Baker said after a moment's cogitation, "though I'm afraid maybe your folks may not be quite willing."

Ethel colored at that. "I think I'll try it, if you are willing," she said. "I think I could sell goods--wait on customers, I mean, make change, and all that; and I know how to use the sewing machine--we have one at my uncle's where I live, and I've learned on it. So I could help with that, if you want me to. Indeed, I'd try to make myself so useful that you wouldn't want to get rid of me," she added with a smile.

"I don't believe I should," returned Mrs. Baker pleasantly. "Well, you may come and try it, if you like."

"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Ethel, her eyes shining. "When shall I begin?"

"To-morrow, if you like; but if you're really decided to come we'd better settle about the terms. You'd expect to board and sleep here, I suppose?"

"I suppose so, if you want me to," returned Ethel with a sigh, thinking of Nannette's distress on learning that she was to be left alone at Uncle Albert's.

"Yes, I'd rather you would," said Mrs. Baker. "I've a right nice little bedroom for you opening into mine. Shall I show it to you?"

"Yes, if you please."

They went into the back part of the house, leaving the store in the care of Mrs. Ray, the mother of Mrs. Baker, up a narrow winding stairway and into a small room opening on one side into the hall, on another into a larger bedroom. Everything looked neat and clean, but the furniture was scant and plain, by no means an agreeable contrast to the room Ethel now occupied at her uncle's, or indeed with any room in his large and commodious dwelling.

Ethel was conscious of some sinking of the heart at the thought of the not pleasant exchange, but independence was sweet; still sweeter the thought of getting even one step nearer the realization of her dream of the little home of their own for herself, brother, and sisters.

And it was quite as good a room--as well furnished at least--as the one they had occupied at Mr. Coote's.

Mrs. Baker could almost read the young girl's thoughts in her speaking countenance.

"I dare say your room at your uncle's must be far better furnished and larger than this," she remarked. "I wish for your sake I had a nicer one to offer you."

"But one can't have everything in this world," returned Ethel, forcing a smile, "and I had rather be independent even in a small and poorly furnished ten by ten room than living on somebody else in a palace."

"That's a right feeling, I think," said Mrs. Baker. "I don't have any great amount of respect for folks that are willing to live at other people's expense when they might take care of themselves."

With that she led the way down the stairs and into the store again, where they continued their talk till they came to a definite arrangement. It was that Ethel should come in a day or two and try how she liked the business, and how well she could suit her employer. She told of the needlework she had been doing at odd moments for the past years since her return to the city, and of which she had now acc.u.mulated a large supply, and asked if Mrs. Baker would like to buy them of her for sale in the store.

"I don't know," was the reply in a meditative tone. "Bring them along if you like and let me see them. I'm inclined to think your better plan would be to buy some muslin and make up the garments; then sell them on your own account here in the store; you may do it and welcome."

"Oh, thank you! how kind you are!" exclaimed Ethel joyously. Then with a promise to be there early the next day, she bade good-by and hastened on her homeward way in a nutter of excitement. She was, oh, so glad that at last a prospect was opening before her of being some day able to earn money for the support of herself, and her brother and sisters. And how delightful that she could at once relieve her uncles of all expense for her own maintenance. They would surely be pleased that she was to become at once self-supporting; for only a day or two before this she had overheard some talk between her cousins Arabella and Olive in which they spoke of the expense their father and uncle were at in supporting their orphan cousins, p.r.o.nouncing it a shame that it should be so now when everything was so costly in consequence of the war.

It had made Ethel feel very badly, and greatly increased her longing desire to be able to earn her own living; and surely, taking all this into consideration, her uncles must approve of the effort she was about to make.

And it could hardly be worse to work in that store for so pleasant and kind a woman, as Mrs. Baker evidently was, than to be expected to wait at all times and seasons upon her aunt and cousins, meekly receiving and obeying all their orders, and bearing fault-finding and scolding without retort or remonstrance, no matter how unkind and unjust she might feel it to be. The only hard part would be the separation from her brother and younger sisters, particularly Nannette, who was so accustomed to lean upon her and had been so long her special charge. The tears would fall as she thought of that.

But suddenly realizing that she had certainly been out much longer than she had expected, and would probably be a.s.sailed with a torrent of reproaches on her arrival at home, she hastily wiped away her tears and quickened her steps.

Her reception on her arrival was even worse than she had feared.

"Mrs. Eldon wants you up there in her dressin' room right away, Miss Ethel," said the girl who opened the door and admitted her in answer to her ring.

"Very well," Ethel replied, and tripped lightly up the stairs, though her heart beat at the prospect before her.

She found her aunt lying idly on the sofa in her dressing gown and slippers, her hair in curl papers, and a paper-covered novel in her hand. "Well, miss," she exclaimed, "a pretty time you have been gone, leaving me lying here with n.o.body to read to me; for your cousins are all too busy of course, and not one of them has a voice so well suited to allay the nervousness that drives me so nearly distracted."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Augusta," replied the young girl in a patient tone. "I did not mean to stay so long, but I had some errands----"

"Oh, did you match that lace?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ethel answered, taking a little roll from her pocket.

"Here it is."

"Then make haste and carry it to the sewing room, and tell Miss Finch to baste it in the neck and sleeves of that new black silk of mine. Then leave your hat and sack in your own room and come here and read to me."

Ethel, though longing to go in search of Nannette, from whom she must part, in a large measure, so soon, also to consider and gather together what she would need to take with her to Mrs. Baker's, obeyed the order without any show of reluctance, and spent the next hour in reading to her aunt.

By that time Mrs. Eldon had fallen asleep, perceiving which the young girl stole silently from the room and went to her own.

But she had scarcely reached it and shut herself in when the door was opened again by someone on the outside and Arabella put in her head, asking, "Where's that sewing silk I told you to get me? and the b.u.t.tons?

did you match them?"

"Yes; here they are," returned Ethel, taking them from her pocket and handing them to her cousin.

"And why did you not bring them to me at once when you got home?"

"Aunt Augusta has kept me busy ever since."

"You are not in her room now, are you?" queried Arabella sarcastically.

"No, but I have just come from it, and I really forgot all about the purchases for you, Arabella."

"Well let me advise you not to forget so readily another time," was the haughty rejoinder, and Arabella hurried away; but Ethel heard her remark to Minnie and Olive as she went into the room across the hall, "That girl isn't worth her salt, and papa doing everything for her--feeding, clothing, and educating her. Really it would be a fine thing for him and us if she'd show spirit enough to go off and earn a living for herself."

"She's too young," said Olive, "papa wouldn't think of letting her do it; and after all she is quite useful to us--doing many a little job of mending and fixing that we wouldn't care to do for ourselves."

"Well, yes, she does; but if she were not here we'd do them ourselves and papa would be saved that much needless expense."

"Needless?"