Her eyes, always large, now looked unnaturally so and as she placed what Sal had termed a "tea-kettle" upon her head, she half determined not to go.

But Sal caught her hand, saying, "Come, child, it's time we were off.

They'll all know it's Mrs.Campbell's old bonnet, and will laugh at her for giving it to you." Billy had not come, but the pleasant-looking woman had succeeded in making friends with Alice, and as Mary passed out of the yard she saw her little sister spatting the window sill, and apparently well pleased with her new nurse.

Scarcely were they out of sight of the house, when Sal, seating herself upon a large stone, commenced divesting her feet of her shoes and stockings.
"What are you doing ?" asked Mary, in great surprise.
"I guess I know better than to wear out my kid slippers when I've got no Willie's father to buy me any more," answered Sal.

"I'm going barefoot until I reach the river bridge, and then I shall put them on again." The shoes and stockings being carefully rolled up in a paper which Sal produced from her pocket, they walked briskly forward, and reached the village some time before the first bell rang for church.
"Come down this street, please," said Mary to her companion, who with slippers readjusted and umbrella hoisted was mincing along, courtesying to every one she met, and asking them how they did--"Come down this street; I want to see my old home." Sal readily complied, saying as they drew near the low brown house, in which a strange family were now living, "There is nothing very elegant in the architecture of this dwelling." Mary made no reply.