read to him and cheered him up, and I had the
satisfaction of knowing that I made the last part of his life happier.
That's all, my dear. It is almost too sad to tell to a young girl."

Ethel sat and gazed upon her,--the woman who had shown such mercy to a
brute,--a wife deserted by her husband,--a mother never able to feel the
hand of her little child upon her cheek,--a woman whose life had been
spent in helping others, with no thought of self. The tears came into
the girl's eyes. She seemed to behold a bright halo about Aunt Susan's
head, and it filled her with awe. Suddenly she saw herself as she really
was,--the daughter of a selfish, mercenary mother, whose sole ambition
was for her future position in life. And this was her mission--to visit
this noble woman with a view to ingratiating herself and becoming her
heiress,--to make her think she loved her,--to make herself
indispensable to her. Yes, those were her mother's words. She had
destroyed the letter lest it should be seen, but she knew it by heart.
The young girl saw it all. Her lips quivered and she felt so utterly
unworthy that she fell on her knees and buried her face in Aunt Susan's
lap, sobbing bitterly.

CHAPTER XV

A NEW ETHEL

"Oh! Aunt Susan, you don't understand and I am afraid to tell you, but I
am such a wicked girl--such a hypocrite, and so unworthy of your
relationship and love. I am a cheater and a waster. My life is all lies
and sham. It always has been lies and sham. I wish to tell you
everything so that you may see me as I am.

"I came here to get into your good graces--to win your love that thereby
I might gain your fortune and marry into one of our old families--a man
of great social prominence--and I've been trying to make you like me and
make myself necessary to you. I've tried to give you the impression that
I was clever so that in case you wished to make me your heiress you
would not hesitate for fear that I might be extravagant and a
spendthrift. I can't tell you how bad I am. I've been ashamed of being
seen with you on account of the queer way you dressed. I'm not fit to
put my head in your lap--no, I'm not fit to stay under your roof any
longer," and Ethel's sobs were pitiful to hear. She became hysterical.
Then Aunt Susan took her in her arms.

"Child," she began, "don't cry. You have told me nothing new. I
understood from the first why you came home with me. You have many noble
traits of character. Your grandmother