“She is a queer little thing,” Alice thought, as she went back to her chair and her lesson, while Emma mentally pronounced her the most beautiful child she had ever seen.

Some such thought flitted through Alice’s mind, and when the lesson was gone through, and Gertie closed her book, she began to question her by asking how old she was, and where she had lived, and what Mrs. Rogers was to her if she was not her mother. And Gertie told her all she knew of herself and her father and mother, and that she had a grandmother and forty pounds a year. And then she spoke of her aunt’s loss in the bank shares, and added:

“After that, we couldn’t lodge any more, because, you see, we are poor, and so we came to America to seek our fortune and be near Norah, Mrs. Schuyler’s maid, who is auntie’s cousin, you know.”

Here was an opportunity for learning something definite of Edith, and Alice was about to question Gertie when Mrs. Rogers appeared, a jug of molasses in one hand and a basket of eggs in the other. She seemed flurried and surprised at sight of the ladies, and asked Gertie why she had not invited them in.

“We are better here,” Alice said. “We only came on business. I am wanting some plain sewing done, and called to see if you can do it for me.”

She was civil enough, and Mrs. Rogers, who really wanted work, signified her willingness to do anything she could. Specimens of her handiwork were brought forth for examination, and Alice criticised and offered suggestions with the manner of a woman of forty, and finally arranged to try her, provided the price was not too high. That, too, proved satisfactory, and then the young lady arose to take leave, saying:

“Perhaps you will let your little girl come for the work, to-morrow.”

“No, I will go myself,” Mrs. Rogers answered quickly, and added, in an undertone: “it is not as if she were my own child, and in my station in life. She is different, and must be brought up different. I mean she shall have the very best of educations. Do you know of any piano I can rent, or of any place where she can go to practise? I mean her to take lessons at once.”

Alice stared wonderingly at her, and answered rather haughtily that she knew nothing about renting pianos, or places where one could practise.

“Such airs!” she said to Emma, as they walked home together. “French and music with clear-starching and plain sewing. That girl will be much better off to be brought up to work than to get such notions into her head.”