BERTHA. 63

was always in a close carriage; and though Bertha sometimes
saw children playing games of which she had never even heard,
and sometimes wished she might be dressed as was some
specially attractive child, it was seldom that she had an oppor-
tunity of noticing much beyond her immediate surroundings. |

Her governess was as old as her grandmother, having been,
in fact, a schoolmate of that estimable lady.

This was Bertha’s first glimpse of that real world of chil-
dren in which most little ones are so much at home, and she
was at first puzzled and amazed, next she was filled with a
longing to be as other children. As she sat there alone, the
dearest old lady in the world came up to her; she had the
whitest hair and the brightest eyes, the pinkest cheeks and the
sweetest smile, you ever saw.

“This is Bertha Grey, is it not?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Bertha, in her old-fashioned way.

“T know your grandmother very well,” said the old lady,
sitting down on the sofa beside Bertha. “We were girls
together. I am so glad you could come this evening, my dear.
Why are you not out there playing with the others ?”

Bertha blushed. “Ido not know any of the games,” she
said, “nor any of the little girls.”

“That is too bad,” returned her friend. I am Aunt
Joanna to all the children, even my own grandchildren, so you
must call me so too,” she said, smiling at Bertha. “Now, as
I wrote the note to your grandmother asking her to let you