of course he may have a different one now. Still it is
a gleam of hope; which is doubly sweet because _you_ brought it."

Katherine hastily pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, and choked down
the sob that would swell her throat. She was dreadfully tired,
physically and mentally.

"Ada asked me for that money this morning as soon as you were gone. I
told her I could not return it for a while, and she did not look
pleased, naturally enough."

"I think she is very selfish," said Katherine.

"No, dear, only thoughtless, and younger than her years. She is always
nice with me, and would be with you if you had more patience. You must
remember that no character is stronger than its weakest part, and hers
is--"

"Self," put in Katherine.

"No! love of admiration and pleasure," added her mother.

"Well," returned Katherine, good-humoredly, "they both are very nice."

Here the person under discussion came hastily into the room, in the
crispest of lilac and white muslins, with a black sash and bows, and a
rose at her waist, looking as fresh as if the heaviest atmosphere could
not touch her.

"Oh, you have arrived, Katherine! I wish you would come and see Colonel
Ormonde. He wants so much to speak to you!"

"But I do not want to speak to him. I don't want to see any one."

"Do come, Katie! I assure you you have made quite an impression; come
and deepen it," cried Mrs. Frederic, with a persuasive smile, while she
thought, "She is looking awfully bad and pale, and Katherine without
color is nowhere; her eyes are red too.--Come, like a dear," she
persisted, aloud, "unless you want to go up and beautify."

"No, I certainly do not," said Katherine, rising impatiently. "I will go
with you for a minute or two, but I am too tired to talk."

"Your hair is in utter disorder," remarked her mother.

"It is no matter," returned Katherine, following her sister-in-law out
of the room.

Her dress was by no means becoming. It was of thin black material, the
remains of her last year's mourning; the white frill at her throat was
crushed by the friction of her jacket, and some splashes on the skirt
gave her a travel-stained aspect. But no disorder could hide the fine
warm bronze brown of her abundant hair, nor disguise the shape of her
brows and eyes, though the eyes themselves lost something of their color
from the paleness of her cheeks; nor did her weariness detract from the
charm of her delicate upturned chin.

"Here is my na