The eyes of the little girl filled. She sniffed bravely as she fumbled for her handkerchief.
"I like school better," she explained, a catch in her voice. "But I don't like to be a burden."
There was a brief silence on the porch as the little figure went down the walk, and then Priscilla murmured pityingly, "Poor child!"
"It's a shame," exclaimed Peggy warmly. "She's a bright little thing. She's not twelve till September, and she's ready for the high school already. If she could go to school four years more she'd probably be able to earn a good living, but she'll never do very well if she stops school now, for she's not strong enough for heavy work."
"It almost seems a pity," Ruth suggested, "that we've just adopted a French orphan. It seems there are orphans right at home who need help just as much."
Peggy sighed. "I'm not sorry about the French orphan. I suppose we can't imagine the need over there. But I do wish we could do something for Myrtle."
"Peggy Raymond," warned Amy. "Don't let your philanthropy run away with you, and get the idea that we're an orphan asylum. One orphan is all we can manage."
"Yes, of course," Peggy agreed hastily. "Only I was wondering—poor little Myrtle!"
"Can't her aunt afford to give her an education?" Priscilla asked, "Or is she stingy?"
"Oh, I suppose it's pretty hard for Miss Burns to get along with everything so expensive. She's not a high-priced dress-maker, and besides she's mortally slow; one of the puttering sort, you know. At the same time," added Peggy, "I mean to see her and have a talk with her about Myrtle."