The spirited horses soon turned in between two high stone gate-posts, on the top of which two stone lions were crouching. The wide lawns were beautifully kept, and bright-colored autumn flowers flamed in the neat beds. Over a smooth, wide drive the carriage rolled with its small occupant. It did not stop at the front of the house, but went around to the servants’ entrance, and there a maid, in cap and apron, met Eva and led her up the back-stairs to a small room which she said was next to her own.

When Eva had been left alone, she stood very still, looking about her at the plain furnishings, and then it slowly dawned upon her that, instead of being there as an equal and a companion for Susetta, she was to be classed as a servant. Hot tears rushed to her eyes, but she tried to console herself with the thought that it would not be for long; it could not be. Mrs. Friend would not permit it. And Adele, what would Adele say?

There was a rustle in the doorway, and there stood Mrs. Green in an elaborate rose-colored house-dress.

“I see you’ve come,” she said without a word of greeting. “Here’s a black dress I want you to wear, and—er—a cap and apron. I like to have all the—er—helpers around the house dressed alike. Folks who have great wealth ought to do things stylish.”

“So they should, Mrs. Green,” Eva replied politely.

“Your duties,” Mrs. Green continued, “will be to look after Miss Susetta’s room, and to mend her clothes, and to ride out with her when I am not able to go. I hope that you speak English right. I don’t want no one who talks ignorant associatin’ with my daughter, and me a-paying out a lot of money for a tutor to come down from the city to teach her.”

“I will try to speak correctly,” Eva said, feeling as though she was taking a part in a play, everything seemed so unreal and unnatural.

“When you are dressed, you may come to my room, which is at the front of the second-floor hall.” So saying Mrs. Green, elephantine in her loose rose-colored house-dress, walked away, and Eva actually laughed to herself as she made the change. Being able to see the humorous side of a thing saves many a needless heartache.

Half an hour later she rapped lightly on a closed door on the second-floor front and was bidden to enter.

Susetta was there, and she jumped up, crying joyfully, “Oh, Eva, I’m so glad you have come! How I have wanted a girl of my own age to—”

But she got no farther, for her mother, with a frown, said reprovingly, “Susetta, didn’t I tell you never to speak familiar, like that, to—er—the helpers?” Then, turning to Eva, she said, “Yonder is some mending in a basket. You may begin on that.”

Eva sat in a low rocker by a side-window and began to mend the muslin garments. She liked to sew, and she dearly loved lacy things, so she was rather enjoying her task. Susetta pouted, but obediently returned to her seat at the front window. Picking up her book, she tried to read, but, not being interested, she often looked listlessly down on the park-like grounds. Suddenly she gave an exclamation of pleasure. “Oh, ma! ma! Do look!” she cried excitedly. “There’s the banker’s daughter, and the Doring girl in her pony-cart. They’re coming to call on me.”

Mrs. Green peered out between the curtains as she replied, “I told you they’d come fast enough when they found out how rich we are. I’m glad it’s that Doring girl. Her folks belong to one of the oldest families around, and her grandpa owned ’most all of the land in the town. Those two girls are just the ones that I want you to know.”

There came a rap on the door, and a maid entered and announced, “Miss Doring and Miss Drexel to call upon Miss Eva Dearman.”

A deep red mounted to Mrs. Green’s brow, and she replied angrily, “Just tell them, if you please, that I do not let my servants have company except on certain days, and that Eva Dearman’s day hasn’t been picked out yet. What’s more, tell them that the servants’ friends go to the side-door.”

Mrs. Green was so angry that she hardly knew what she was saying. Eva’s cheeks flushed, and for a second she felt inclined to resent what had been said, but wisely she decided to say nothing.

The maid delivered the message which Mrs. Green had sent, and the girls were very indignant.

“Poor Eva!” Adele said as they were driving away. “If I only had known that she was to be sent to Mrs. Green’s. I didn’t know a thing about it until I telephoned to Mrs. Friend an hour ago. But she won’t have to endure this humiliation much longer. My mother loves Eva, and she will gladly invite her to visit us indefinitely.”

When Adele reached home she ran into the house, and, pausing in the lower hall, she called, “Mumsie, where are you?”

“In the library, dear,” a sweet voice replied. And Adele, flushed and excited, went in and sank down on the stool at her mother’s feet as she exclaimed, “Oh, mumsie, I am so mad! I never was madder, I guess, in all my days. I’ve tried and tried to think kind things about that horrid Mrs. Green, but I just can’t, no matter how hard I try.”

“Mrs. Green!” the mother repeated wonderingly. “Why, pet, what have you to do with her?”

Then in a rush of words Adele told the whole story. Mrs. Doring, who truly loved Eva, was surprised that the matron of the Home had allowed her to be so humiliated. “I will telephone to Mrs. Friend at once,” she said, as she arose and went into Mr. Doring’s small study.

The matron of the orphanage was also very indignant when she heard that Eva was being treated as a servant.

“Mrs. Doring,” she said over the wire, “I sincerely hope that you do not think that I had any knowledge that such was to be the case. Mrs. Green told me that she wished Eva to be a companion for Susetta, and when I asked her in what manner the orphan would be able to continue her studies, Mrs. Green replied that she had engaged a tutor to come from the city each day, and she inferred, if she did not directly say, that Eva would have lessons with Susetta. Eva is one of the dearest girls I have ever known, and I did my best to prevent her going, but the directors, knowing that the orphanage is much overcrowded, felt that it is best to find homes for the girls as soon as possible, and, moreover, they did not wish to offend Mrs. Green, who is a rich woman and might contribute liberally, and the home is greatly in need of funds.”

“But surely Eva ought not to be sacrificed,” Mrs. Doring replied. “Couldn’t you send one of the other girls who has not so sensitive a nature?”

“Unfortunately, Eva was Mrs. Green’s choice,” the matron said sadly.

“Suppose, then, that I take Eva,” Mrs. Doring continued. “I will do so gladly. In fact, Mr. Doring and I were recently considering the matter, and had almost decided to ask Eva to become our adopted daughter and a sister for Adele. The two girls love each other so dearly that I am sure that it would be a very happy arrangement.”

“It would, indeed,” Mrs. Friend replied, “and I will lay the matter before the board of directors at their next meeting, which, unfortunately, will not be for another fortnight. Until that time I shall be powerless to act in the matter.”

When Mrs. Doring returned to the library, Adele threw her arms about her and cried joyfully, “Oh, mumsie, I heard what you said about adopting Eva. How wonderful that would be! When can she come? May I drive over and get her this very moment? I can’t bear to have her spend a single night under the same roof with those horrid people.”

“Adele, dear,” her mother said gently, “calling names won’t help Eva. Mrs. Green has had few opportunities. If she had had the advantages that we have had, perhaps she would be different. We must remember that.”

“Very well, mumsie,” Adele said contritely. “I’ll try not to think unkindly of Mrs. Green any more. I’ll try not to think of her at all, but please do tell me when I may go after my dear sister Eva.”

Then Mrs. Doring told all that the matron had said. “Oh-h!” Adele sighed. “Then poor Eva must stay there for two long weeks. Well, at least I will telephone to her and tell her that we are trying to get her out of her prison.”

A moment later Adele emerged from her father’s study, looking very unlike her cheerful self. Mrs. Doring put one arm about the girl, as she laughingly exclaimed, “Well, little Miss Thunder-cloud, what happened?”

“I called up Restwell,” Adele began, “and I asked if I might speak to Eva Dearman. The butler, I suppose it was, replied, and he said the servants were not allowed to use the ’phone. Now, how can I let Eva know? She may fret herself ill.”

“Eva has a brave, noble nature, and I am sure that she will cheerfully make the best of things, and, Della, two weeks will quickly pass, and after that we will do all that we can to make up for the unhappy year that Eva has had.”

However, before the fortnight was over, something very unexpected happened.