to Charley's sagas of his rabbits and cauliflowers in the Old Land.
Also her great beauty separated her definitely from the other girls. When she stood by the serving table waiting for an order she was remote as a sculptured goddess. When she laughed and talked with them, they forgot what she was saying, for gazing in fascinated envy into her deep, mirthful eyes.
On a morning a fortnight after the arrival of the two girls in Brancepeth, a gypsy pedlar had pushed her way into the scullery and opened out her wares on the floor. The women clustered about her; Queenie, home from school with a cold, peeping from behind her mother's skirts.
"Nicey, nicey—" said the gypsy, holding up a pink silk scarf embroidered in silver. "Ah, dis look nice, young lady, on you." She threw it about Pearl's plump shoulders.
"Aw, it's too swell for me," objected Pearl. "Isn't it, Mrs. Bye?"
Mrs. Bye eyed her judicially. "Well, I don't know as you'd get much good out of it. It's a flimsy thing. But it 'ud be lovely for you to wear at the Firemen's Ball. It's not a bit too swell for that."
"How much?" asked Pearl of the gypsy.
"Ah, nicey, nicey. Two dollars. Cheap."
"Oh, say, I can't afford two dollars."
The pedlar's swarthy hands lifted the scarf deftly from Pearl's shoulders and' threw it about Delight's. "Ah!" she exclaimed. "Dis tall girl buy. Ah, see, how booti-ful!" Her dark face lighted, she clasped her hands passionately to her breast.
"Here, don't be so swift," said Pearl. "I didn't say
