“Because I ought not to know it,” said Phronsie, finding her tongue.

“Haven’t I told you that you will help your mother only by not telling her?” said Mrs. Chatterton.  “How would you like to learn how to take care of yourself when you are a big girl?”

A light slowly gathered in the brown eyes, becoming at last so joyous and assured, that Mrs. Chatterton’s face dropped its hard lines, to lose itself in a gratified smile.

“Now you make me see some real hope that my scheme won’t be wholly a wild piece of philanthropy,” she exclaimed.  “Only look like that, Phronsie, and I’ll do anything for you.”

“If I can do anything for Mamsie,” cried Phronsie, clasping her hands in rapture.  “Oh! do tell me, dear Mrs. Chatterton,” she pleaded.

“Oh! now I am dear Mrs. Chatterton,” cried that lady, with a hard, ill-favored smile.  But she lowered her tone to a gentler one, and extending one jeweled hand, took the little folded ones in her clasp.

“I will be a good friend to you, and show you how you can learn to do something so that when you grow up, you can take care of yourself, just as Polly will.  Just think, Phronsie, just as Polly will,” cried Mrs. Chatterton artfully.

“How—­how?” demanded Phronsie, scarcely breathing.

“Listen, Phronsie.  Now you know I haven’t any little girl.”

Phronsie drew a long breath.

“Well, I have been looking for one for a long time.  I want one who will be a daughter to me; who will grow up under my direction, and who will appreciate what I sacrifice in taking her.  She must be nice-looking, for I couldn’t stand an ill-favored child.  I have found several who were much better looking than you, Phronsie; in fact, they were beauties; but I don’t like the attitude of their families.  The poor things actually thought they were doing me a favor by accepting my proposition for the children.”

As this statement required no remark on the part of the hearer, Phronsie was silent, not removing her eyes from Mrs. Chatterton’s face.

“Now, although you haven’t as much to recommend you as many other children that I have fancied, I hope to make you serve my purpose.  I am going to try you, at least.  Every day, Phronsie, you can come to my room.  It’s lucky that you don’t go to school, but do pretty much as you like in this house, so no questions will be asked.”

“I go to Grandpapa’s room every day,” said Phronsie, in a distressed tone, “to my lessons.”

“Of course.  I know that; a very silly thing it is too.  There’s no use in trying to break it up now, I suppose, or I’d put my hand to the attempt.  But you can come to me after you’ve got through toadying Mr. King.”

“What is toding?” asked Phronsie.

“Never mind; that hasn’t anything to do with the business in hand,” replied Mrs. Chatterton impatiently.  “Now if you come to me every day, and give me as much time as you can, why, I’ll show you what I want of you, and teach you many things.  Then after a while, Phronsie, when you learn to appreciate it, I shall tell you what I am going to do.  The adoption will be an easy matter, I fancy, when the child is interested,” she added, taking the precaution to mutter it.