There was sympathy on every girl face.

“Why thank you!” said one of them.  “We are very sorry for you.”

“Of course you are,” said Margaret.  “Everybody always has been.  And because I can’t ever have the joy of a mother in thinking for my girls and buying pretty things for them, there is nothing left for me, but to do what I can for some one who has no mother to care for her.  I know a girl, who would be just as pretty as any of you, if she had the clothes, but her mother does not think about her, so I mother her some myself.”

“She must be a lucky girl,” said another.

“Oh, she loves me,” said Margaret, “and I love her.  I want her to look just like you do.  Please tell me about your clothes.  Are these the dresses and hats you wear to school?  What kind of goods are they, and where do you buy them?”

The girls began to laugh and cluster around Margaret.  Wesley strode down the store with his head high through pride in her, but his heart was sore over the memory of two little faces under Brushwood sod.  He inquired his way to the shoe department.

“Why, every one of us have on gingham or linen dresses,” they said, “and they are our school clothes.”

For a few moments there was a babel of laughing voices explaining to the delighted Margaret that school dresses should be bright and pretty, but simple and plain, and until cold weather they should wash.

“I’ll tell you,” said Ellen Brownlee, “my father owns this store, I know all the clerks.  I’ll take you to Miss Hartley.  You tell her just how much you want to spend, and what you want to buy, and she will know how to get the most for your money.  I’ve heard papa say she was the best clerk in the store for people who didn’t know precisely what they wanted.”

“That’s the very thing,” agreed Margaret.  “But before you go, tell me about your hair.  Elnora’s hair is bright and wavy, but yours is silky as hackled flax.  How do you do it?”

“Elnora?” asked four girls in concert.

“Yes, Elnora is the name of the girl I want these things for.”

“Did she come to the high school to-day?” questioned one of them.

“Was she in your classes?” demanded Margaret without reply.

Four girls stood silent and thought fast.  Had there been a strange girl among them, and had she been overlooked and passed by with indifference, because she was so very shabby?  If she had appeared as much better than they, as she had looked worse, would her reception have been the same?

“There was a strange girl from the country in the Freshman class to-day,” said Ellen Brownlee, “and her name was Elnora.”

“That was the girl,” said Margaret.

“Are her people so very poor?” questioned Ellen.