“I was both the babe and the woman, and you the little song-bird that called me out to see the sunshine and hear the music.”

CHAPTER V.

On some of Beth’s visits to town, she had made the acquaintance of Helen Reed, a girl of her own age and lucky enough to have five brothers and four sisters. They were the jolliest set imaginable, all packed as close as matches in a box. Helen’s hair was as yellow as puffed taffy. Her eyes matched the blueness of the summer sky. It takes a large check to clothe, feed and educate ten children. The Reed children had early learned how to make the most of hair ribbons, and to trim over hats from the season before. They dressed plain enough, goodness knows, but they had an “air.”

Helen when barely seven would cock up a hat at the side, stick in a quill, slap it on her head and have the general effect of a French fashion plate.

She was a dear little girl who looked out for her own rights while she remembered the rights of others, just as any little girl learns to do when she has been reared with nine other children.

Helen and Beth fell in love with each other at first sight. The former, living in a flat in town, found the yard and trees at the old Wells place most delightful. Early in June when school was out, she came up to visit Beth.

“Your trees are pretty, Beth. I think you’d feel like a queen sitting under them.”

Beth looked at them with new eyes. She had always had them, and did not fully appreciate them.

“Let’s play we’re queens,” cried Helen. “Under that big locust tree on the bank, we’ll build a palace.”

“It isn’t a locust tree. They don’t grow so. It’s an oak,” said Beth.

“Locust sounds prettier, so I’ll call it that,” said Helen, who did not know one tree from another. “It doesn’t matter what kind it is. Let’s build a palace.”

“I don’t see how it can be done,” said Beth.

“Then I’ll show you.” She was already picking her way gingerly across the public road. The girls were in their bare feet and the skin was yet tender. They stepped as carefully as they could, for the bits of gravel and sand could be cruel.

“This will be the drawing room,” cried Helen, moving quickly now that she had gained the greensward under the 

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