"There! Miss Stewart will never know," she said. "Do you want another book now?"
"Yes, please; but—is it right for Miss Rachel not to know?"
Elsie considered. "Perhaps not," she admitted, "but at any rate she won't mind since it looks as well as before."
"And I'll be very careful after this," added the child.
She selected another volume from the children's shelf, and having had it charged, turned to go. But somehow Elsie was loath to have her.
"Why don't you sit down at the table and look at the picture papers?" she suggested.
"Oh, I've got to mind the baby," said Mattie—Mattie Howe was the name on her card. "I must be home when he wakes up. Good-by."
She started—came back—stood irresolute.
"Thank you for mending the book so good—so goodly," she said shyly, "and—I'd like to kiss you."
With a curious sensation that had no admixture of reluctance, Elsie bent over and received the kiss.