Two Litre Pruerms’ Procress 45

 

had reached her age, and what would have happened
to them before that time came. It was true that
Aunt Matilda had a square jaw also. It was not an
encouraging thing to contemplate. In fact, as she
looked at her, Meg felt her heart begin a slow, steady
thumping. But as it thumped she was getting herself
in hand with such determination that when she at last
spoke her chin looked very square indeed, and her
black-lashed eyes were as nearly stern as a child’s
eyes can look.

“ Aunt Matilda,” she said suddenly.

“Well,” and a tablecloth was whisked off and
shaken.

“JT want to talk to you.”

“Talk in a hurry then—I’ve no time to waste in
tall.”

“ How old were you when you began to work and
make money ?”

Aunt Matilda smiled grimly.

“T worked out for my board when I was ten years
old,” she said. “Me and your father were left orphans
and we had to work—or starve. When I was twelve
I got a place to wash dishes and look after children
and run errands, and I got fifty cents a week, because

it was out in the country and girls wouldn't stay
there.”