down to rub her cheek against Mrs. Crane's. "I meant both of you: We like you both just the same."
"Only it's different," explained Jean. "Mr. Black doesn't need us and sometimes you do. We like to do things for you."
"I'm glad of that," said Mrs. Crane, "for I need you this very minute. But don't you be too sure about his not needing you as well. He must lead a pretty lonely life for it's years since his wife died—I never heard of anybody else liking her but I guess he did. He's one of the faithful kind, maybe, for he's lived all alone in that great big house ever since. I guess it does him good to have you little girls for friends."
"What was his wife like?" asked Mabel, eagerly. "Did you used to know her?"
"No, indeed," said Mrs. Crane, again giving the objectionable sniff. "That is, not so very well—a little light-headed, useless thing no more fit to keep house—but there! there. It doesn't make any differ-
