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 gave, with some kind word to boot, when he delivered the family supply of bread. It had been Mrs. Simson's custom to send to the bakehouse in order to avail herself of a customary deduction in the price of a certain number of loaves; but, since Lucy had lived with her, Charles Lovett had volunteered to serve her at the door without an additional charge—an offer extremely puzzling to Dame Simson, who understood little of those considerations that cannot be represented by dollars and cents.

The day before Lucy's first month was up, Mrs. Simson said to her, "I see your ears are bored, Lucy, why don't you wear ear-rings?"

"My mother bored them when I was a very little girl, to—to please my father."

"Then you have worn them?"

"Yes; my father never liked to see me without them—so I always wore them at home."

"They are dreadful pretty things, I think; don't you, Lucy?"

"Yes, ma'am; but I think, as mother says, they would look prettier if there was any use in them."

"Use or no use, you would look a deal handsomer for them—your face is the right shape, and your neck rather long—you raly want 'em. What have you done with yours?"

"Mother disposed of them," replied Lucy, and she was leaving the room to avoid telling the why and wherefore.

"Stop, Lucy—did you ever take notice of Aurely's ear-rings, with red drops?" Lucy had seen them. "Well, here they are—just as good as new—only one stone is gone and one hinge broke. They might be repaired for a trifle—they cost four