a low voice: "That it isn't what you do, but the thought with which you do it, that makes a kindness."
The Dream nodded. "You're growing wiser every minute," he said.
"It's costing considerable," said Marjorie, with a shaky little laugh.
They walked on as rapidly as possible, and Marjorie tried to forget the cold by taking an interest in the flowers by the wayside and the squirrels and birds in the woods; and she had nearly succeeded when they came to a place where was being erected a beautiful rest-house beside the way. She stopped to admire the artistic carvings, and graceful arches, and the comfortable seats and fountains of cool water.
"Who is giving this building to the travelers?" she asked of one of the workmen.
"All who pass this way and wish to help," replied the man, pointing to a box standing upon a stone pedestal.
Marjorie approached the box, and looking within she saw a heap of bills and coins. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she drew out her big silver dollar and deposited it with the rest.
The Dream looked at her curiously when she
