Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

"There was something about you, Amarilly, that appealed to me that first

day you came up to the studio. It couldn't have been your looks, for

aside from your hair, your expressive eyes, and your hands; you are

quite ordinary looking; but something about you amused me, then

interested me, and, now fascinates me. I have thought about it a good

deal, and have come to the conclusion that it is your direct naturalness

and earnestness. I have really come to feel as if you were a sort of a

younger sister of mine. I have done a very little for you in the way of

education, and I have intended to do more. The reason I have been slow

about it was--for reasons. I have discussed your future with the

Merediths a great many times.

"What I wished to do was to put you in the best girls' school I could

find and when you were finished there, to send you abroad, and give you

the same advantages that a sister of mine would have. But as I say, I

hesitated. It didn't seem exactly wise to separate you from your family,

surround you with different environments and then have you come home

to--the alley. I know your loyal little heart would never waver in its

affection for them, but such a decided change would not be wise.

"Now, you see, this farm business simplifies things wonderfully. With

the thrift and industry of your brothers and the Boarder I can easily

see the farm is going to be a prosperous undertaking, and by the time

you are finished--say five years--for Miss Varley tells me you are quite

up with the girls of your age in your studies, they will have a

substantial country home which you will enjoy immensely between times.

You will find that a country home, however humble, is not sordid like an

obscure home in the city. So next week, Amarilly, or as soon as Mrs.

Meredith can fit you out properly, you will be packed off to an ultra-

smart school. There will be one term this year, but I think you should

remain through the summer vacation and have private tutoring."

The waiter entered with the first course. When he had again gone out,

Amarilly looked up at Derry, her eyes full of a yearning that touched

him.

"It would be lovely, Mr. Derry. Too lovely to happen, you know."

"There, Amarilly," he said with a combination of frown and smile, "there

it is again--your contradiction of eyes and mouth--the one of a gazelle;

the other, of a mule. I'll answer your objections before you make them,

for it is determined that you are to go."