t the money right away."

She rose to leave the room, then sat down again hastily.

"I'm afraid I can't help you right now, either. I have mislaid my purse.
But when I find it I'll let you have the money. When York comes back
maybe I can get it of him. Could you come over this afternoon?"

"Mebby York won't let you have it to loan where there ain't no big
interest comin'. I'd ruther he didn't know it if you wasn't sure."

Laura recalled what her brother had said about not becoming entangled
with Stellar Bahrr, and she knew he would oppose the loan. She knew,
too, that in the end he would consent to it, because he himself was
continually befriending the poor, no matter how shiftless they might be.

"I think I can bring York round, all right," Laura assured her caller.
"He's not unreasonable."

"I'd ruther he didn't know. Men are so different from women, you know.
You say you lost your purse. Ain't that funny? Where?"

"The funny thing is I don't know where," Laura replied.

Mrs. Bahrr had settled down, and, having accomplished her open purpose,
began to train her batteries for her hidden motive.

"Things gits lost funny ways, queer ways, and sometimes ornery ways.
Ever' now an' then things is simply missin' here in this burg--just
missin'. But again there's such queer folks even in what you call the
best s'ciety. Now ain't that so?"

Laura agreed amiably. In truth, she wanted to get her mind away from its
substratum of unpleasant and unusual thought for which she could not
account. Nothing could take her farther from it than Mrs. Bahrr's small
talk about people and things. She knew better than to accept the gossip
for facts, but there was no courteous way of stopping Stellar now,
anyhow. One had to meet her on the threshold for that.

"'Tain't always the little, petty thievin' sneak gits the things, even
if they do git the blame of it. No, 'tain't." Mrs. Bahrr rambled on,
fixing her hook eyes square into her hostess at just the right moment
for emphasis. "I knowed the same thing happen twice. Once back in
Indiany, where I come from--jist a little town on White River. There was
a girl come to that town from"--hesitatingly--"from Californy; said to
be rich, an' dressed it all right; had every man there crazy about her,
an' her spendin' money like water pours over a mill-wheel in March. Tell
you who she looked like--jist a mite like this Miss Swim stayin' at your
house now--big eyes an' innocent-lookin' like her,