Across a corner was scrawled the word "Vivian" in large, childish letters.
"Did you buy this ?" asked Mrs.Maynard, knowing that circus performers often sold their photographs.
"Oh, no, indeed, Mother; she gave it to me.

And what do you think, Mother?
The poor little thing has to live in a tent, and she wants to live in a home! And it made her awful sad to see us, 'cause we have a home, and we can wear regular dresses and shoes, and she has to wear queer bloomer things,--and sandals on her feet!" "But I don't understand, Marjorie," said Mrs.Maynard.

"How do you know all this?
Did you talk with the child ?" "Oh, yes, Mother; we went in her tent, and saw her mother and sister.

I don't think they mind being in the circus so much.

But Vivian feels just awful about it! And she's such a sweet little thing; and, Mother, I have the loveliest plan! Don't you think it would be nice for us to 'dopt her, and let her live with us ?" "Midget, what are you talking about ?" and Mrs.Maynard's face showed so plainly her dissent to the proposition that Marjorie jumped out of her lap, and ran across to her father, in the hope of better success.
"Now, Father," she said as she threw her arms around his neck, and drew his arms around her; "do please pay 'tention to my plan! You know we ought to do some good in this world, and what _could_ be better than rescuing a poor little sad circus girl, and letting her live in our own happy home with us?
It wouldn't cost much,--she could have half of my clothes, and half of Kitty's,--we could each get along with half, I know.
And we could both eat less,--that is, I could,--I don't know about Kit.
But anyway, Father, won't you think about it ?" "Yes, dear," said Mr.Maynard, looking fondly at his impetuous daughter; "I'll think about it right now,--and I'll express my thoughts aloud, as I think them.