those of the other young ladies of New Canaan, and, oh, so much
prettier--though not nearly so fancy; and she didn't "speak her
words" as other people of Tillie's acquaintance spoke. To Tillie
it was celestial music to hear Miss Margaret say, for instance,
"buttah" when she meant butter-r-r, and "windo" for windah. "It
gives her such a nice sound when she talks," thought Tillie.

Sometimes Miss Margaret's ignorance of the dialect of the
neighborhood led to complications, as in her conversation just now
with Tillie.

"Well?" she inquired, lifting the little girl's chin with her
forefinger as Tillie stood at her side and thereby causing that
small worshiper to blush with radiant pleasure. "What is it,
honey?"

Miss Margaret always made Tillie feel that she LIKED her. Tillie
wondered how Miss Margaret could like HER! What was there to like?
No one had ever liked her before.

"It wonders me!" Tillie often whispered to herself with throbbing
heart.

"Please, Miss Margaret," said the child, "pop says to ast you will
you give me the darst to go home till half-past three this after?"

"If you go home till half-past three, you need not come back,
honey--it wouldn't be worth while, when school closes at four."

"But I don't mean," said Tillie, in puzzled surprise, "that I want