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Rh “Doesn’t she look dear in that?” cried Florimel, rushing over to snatch her mother off her feet in an enthusiastic salute.

“I wonder why it is, but if any one really is pretty and stylish she looks better in working clothes than she does dressed up! Mary and I would rather have had a red wing in our cap, but they had to be alike, and Jane isn’t quite as pretty in red as she is in other things.”

Jane laughed. “Pussy-cat way of putting it, Mel, creeping on tippy-toes! Fancy bright red on my hair!” she cried.

“How nice, how pretty you all look—well, yes; I suppose I might say we all look, since I’m dressed like you, but I can’t see the effect of the fourth uniform,” Mrs. Garden corrected herself, seeing Florimel’s protest coming. “You look like a trio costumed for something in light opera.”

“The Digger Maidens,” suggested Win. “I’ve got to go to the office this morning, as I told you, but I promise to help you all the afternoon. So long, till then.” He went off whistling. Jane turned from the window with a wave of her hand to Win, who chanced to look back.

“I think Win is as nice as a boy can be. He’s so indifferent about it, too; doesn’t seem to think he’s good looking and clever, and he