send her your dresses and things when you get done with them. Her mother says you have never seen her, so you wouldn't be likely to know that she doesn't look very well in red dresses, another red from her hair, and she has some freckles also. I don't know how much dresses cost, but I send fifteen dollars, and if that is enough please will you buy a new one for her just the color of this piece of silk. (If you lose it, it's only a piece of the string of a russet shoe.) Please send it like you do always and don't ever let her know. Don't even let her know I wrote to you. By the time that wears out I shall probably send you more money.

"I remain, madam,

"Yours respectfully,

"REUBEN CARTWRIGHT."

It

CHAPTER IX

T was almost inconceivable. The girl was certainly a picture. There was a real sensation at the academy on the day when Rusty Miller appeared in a russet-colored poplin that was exactly the shade of her hair, lashes, brows, and freckles, and of one of the colors in her eyes. No one would have dreamed that a gown could have made such a difference. It seemed actually to change the girl; it certainly revealed her. Perhaps she wasn't even now to be called pretty, but truly she was, as every one thought and many said, a picture. It was a pleasure to look at her, and rather difficult to keep one's eyes from her.

Rusty's mother had sent word to her the day before by a neighbor's daughter who attended the academy that a box had come for her from New York. Rather surprised to have it come at that time instead of in June as usual, the girl hadn't felt any eagerness about seeing what it contained. The worst possible had been attained long before, so there wasn't even that excitement in regard to it. But Reuben had offered to go over to Farleigh and get it, and she had tried to be sufficiently interested to please him when he set out directly after tea.

"If there's a dress, I'm going to put it right on and wear it every day, no matter if this one is as good as ever," she said to Miss Penny. "I don't care if it is just as bad as this. I don't even care if it's more hideous. I'll have a change.”

"Hideous! Why, Rusty, dear, it seems to me that's a beautiful dress-all wool and Scotch plaid. I shouldn't suppose there'd be another girl in school that would have a nicer one," said Miss Penny in a troubled tone.

"My goodness, they all do, Miss Penny," cried Rusty emphatically. "But every last one of 'em would look better in meal sacks than I would in my best bib and tucker. I ought to be dressed in meal bags myself, for clothes are just plumb wasted on

Oh, dear, isn't it too bad that Anna and I couldn't have swapped looks? She was a beauty— the most gorgeous yellow hair. And if she was going to run away she might as well have been the homely one."

Tell me about Anna, dear," Miss Penny begged, and Rusty coaxed the deaf white cat into her arms, and began to reminisce. She was still talking about Anna when Reuben returned with the paper box.

He sat down and listened, too. Miss Penny was utterly absorbed, and though at first Reuben glanced wistfully at the box, presently he, too, forgot all else than Rusty's lively and very graphic recital.

At the close of the evening she carried the package to her room unopened. As a matter of fact, she hadn't dared to open the box before Miss Penny and Reuben. The sight of it had depressed, almost sickened her, and the girl felt she might burst into tears if she should take out the contents with those two dear and sympathetic friends looking on.

She dumped it carelessly on her bed. But opening it, her casual glance became keen. The color of the gown rather puzzled her. It seemed very much more subdued than usual; it almost looked brown, though she supposed it was the effect of the lamplight. But there was genuine satisfaction in the fact that a white linen turn-over collar took the place of the usual tight band at the neck, and as she hung it away in the clothes-press, she was pleased to discover a soft silk ribbon for her hair that dropped from the folds. Smoothing it carefully, she laid it on the bureau, then blew out the light and jumped into bed.

She noticed the ribbon the first thing in the morning, and saw with surprise that it was a rich shade of brown. It was so pretty that she decided to do her hair in another way because of it. Usually she brushed it straight back from her forehead in the most unbecoming manner possible, and braided it tightly into a tail, which she doubled under and fastened with a pin.

This morning she parted it in the middle, brushed it back softly as Margaret Hatch did hers, plaited it loosely, and let the long braid hang free, tying the ribbon in a bow at the top and letting the end curl. It waved softly about her face charmingly, in truth-and, rather surprised at the effect, Rusty hesitated to put on the gown-always a depressing operation.

Greatly amazed to see that by daylight this also was of the same rich russet color, she got into it in a twinkling, and before she looked into the mirror fastened the white collar with a little cameo pin Miss Penny had given her. When at length she glanced hesitatingly at it, she couldn't believe her eyes-couldn't credit the reflection she saw. She was dressed in a brown frock, absolutely brown; but it was of exactly the shade of her hair and of those awful, long red eyelashes she had always detested. But they weren't red any longer-the strange thing was that they were brown and so was her hair! Further, in spite of staring eyes and open mouth, the image that faced her wasn't ugly-she must be dreaming, for it wasn't even plain. It couldn't, of course, be possible that it was even-pretty!

Covering it all over with a gingham pinafore, she ran down-stairs and tried to forget her excitement and amazement as she prepared breakfast. But by the time the meal was ready, she was nearly ex