Prosperity's child

by Eleanora H. Stooke

"I'm afraid we cannot do that," Ann returned; "I'm sorry, but mother doesn't care for us to go into the town on Saturday afternoons without she is with us, because it is generally thronged with rough sort of folks, and to-day there is an important football match to be played here, and that always brings a lot of people to the place, so the streets will be crowded."

"If we can't go into the town I would as soon stay in the house," said Agnes, not attempting to disguise her disappointment. She thought Mrs. Reed was absurdly particular.

"Then come up to my room and take off your hat and jacket," Ann replied; "I'm afraid you're disappointed, Agnes, but you don't realise what the town is like on a Saturday afternoon. Come with us, Violet."

So the three girls went upstairs to Ann's room —a little room very similar to Violet's, with white enamelled furniture and a pretty, light wall paper. Agnes glanced around her with curious eyes, and, as soon as she had taken off her outdoor garments, she requested permission to look at the pictures and knick-knacks which ornamented the walls. Ann exhibited her treasured possessions with pleasure; they were most of them little presents which had been given to her by her parents at various times.

"This is where my grandmother lives," she said, indicating a framed photograph of a small, white-washed house, actually a cottage, with lattice windows and a strip of garden before it; "it faces the sea, and Granny spends a great part of her time in the summer sitting under the porch, knitting. She says knitting is her one accomplishment, she is very clever at it and makes all sorts of things—counterpanes, and curtains, and, of course, she always keeps father supplied with socks. She knitted my first socks, too, of fine thread; mother has them now, they are so pretty—like lace. When I look at that photograph I can picture Granny most vividly. She has splendid sight for her age, and can see a great distance; she loves to watch the vessels passing up and down the channel, and she knows such a lot about ships, and can tell such wonderful sea-stories—true ones."

Agnes stared at the photograph in silence, rather wondering that Ann should have pointed it out to her, for the cottage was such a very unpretentious dwelling. Why did Dr. Reed allow his mother to occupy such a humble abode? She could not imagine anyone living there from choice.

"Have you a grandmother, Agnes?" asked Violet, making a shrewd guess at what was passing through the visitor's mind, and anxious to prevent her putting her thoughts into words.

"Oh, yes! father's mother. She lives at Bath in a large house—a much larger house than this one—and she's very rich; my grandfather left her a lot of money when he died. I am to spend my Easter holidays with her."

"That will be nice for you," remarked Ann. "Bath is a very pretty place, I've heard. I suppose you are very fond of your grandmother?"

"Well, no, I cannot say I am," Agnes admitted, with a laugh; "she's an exceedingly cross old woman who says things—disagreeable things, you know—on purpose to hurt and annoy people."