is wet through, she must
go to bed as soon as she can."

"Here? Irene is going to stay here? Oh, how lovely! I am awfully sorry
for you, Irene, but, oh, I am so glad." Faith's face was one beam of
welcome. No thought of their unpreparedness troubled her.

"Well, Irene won't be glad, unless we hurry and get a room fit for her to
go into," Audrey retorted sharply. "She must be cold and miserable."

"Oh, we will soon get the room straight; she can go into mine if she
likes."

"She must have peace and quiet," said Audrey dryly, "and she ought to have
a hot bath at once. Granny always made me have one if I got wet; it takes
the pain and stiffness out of one's bones."

Faith lifted up one of the poor scratched hands, and looked at it.
"We sometimes have mustard in our baths," she said mischievously, "when we
have colds, but I don't think we will give Irene mustard in hers now!"

Irene chuckled faintly, though she could not help shuddering.
Faith's welcome had raised her spirits considerably. "A hot bath
_without_ mustard would be lovely, if it isn't inconvenient. My clothes
are soaked through, and I am growing so chilly----"

"Inconvenient!" cried Faith, scornfully, "as though it could be!
You ought to be in it by this time, though. Come along at once, or a nice
cold you will have, and while you are bathing we will get the bed made,
and all the hot-water bottles and hot bricks and things we can find, to
put in it!"

"Thank you, but don't cook me," groaned Irene. "When I have had my bath I
shall be so hot, I shall be able to warm the bottles instead of the
bottles warming me."

Audrey hurried away to begin the preparations, though she had very little
idea of what to do. She wanted to be alone, and busy, to try and work off
her vexation. Why could not she have welcomed poor bruised, hurt Irene,
as Faith had done! She had followed her mood of the moment, thinking only
of herself, and she had made an impression, left a feeling, that she would
never now be able to wipe away. Oh, it was unendurable to feel so mean,
so unlovable, when--when she really did not mean to be either, when she
wanted to be so different! At the door of the spare bedroom she turned,
and walked swiftly down the stairs again to the dining-room.

"Irene," she said, her voice trembling a little with shyness at her first
effort, "I think my nightdresses would fit you best. Would you like a
nun's veiling one, or a cotton? I will get on