so beautifully."

"I should advise the fire," said Rita, looking with scorn at the
battered hat. "Put it in now, this moment. It will burn well, and it can
do nothing else decently."

"Ten miles from a shop," said Margaret, "and nothing else save her best
hat. No, my lady, we cannot be so extravagant. If you will not help me,
I must e'en do the best I can. I never could understand hats!" she added
ruefully.

"_Why_ do you do these things?" Rita asked, sitting up as suddenly as
she had flung herself down. "Will you tell me why? I love you! I have
told you twenty times of it; but I cannot understand why you do these
things for that young monster. Will you tell me why?"

"In the first place, she is not a monster, and I will not have you say
such things, Rita. In the second place, I am very fond of her; and in
the third, I should try to help her all I could, even if I were not fond
of her."

"Why?"

"Because it is a duty."

"Duty?" Rita laughed, and made a pretty little grimace. "English word,
ugly and stupid word! I know not its meaning. You are fond of Calibana?
Then I revere less your taste, that is all. Ah! what do you make there?
That cannot be; it cuts the soul!"

She took the hat hastily from Margaret's hand. Had the latter been a
little overclumsy on purpose? Certainly her dimple deepened a little as
she relinquished the forlorn object. Rita held it on her finger and
twirled it around.

"The fire is really the only place for it," she said again; "but if it
must be preserved, do you not see that the only possible thing is to
turn this ribbon? It was not wet through; the other side is fresh."

She still frowned at the hat, but her fingers began to move here and
there, twisting and turning in a magical way. In five minutes the hat
was a different object, and Margaret gave a little cry of pleasure.

"Rita, you are a dear! Why, it looks better than it did before the
wetting, ever and ever so much better! Thank you, you clever creature! I
shall bring all my hats to you for treatment, and I am sure Peggy will
be so much obliged when I tell her--"

"If you dare!" cried Rita. "You will do nothing of the sort, I beg, _ma
cousine_. What I have done, was done for you; I desire neither thanks
nor any other thing from La Calibana. That she remain out of my sight
when possible, that she hold her tongue when we must be together,--that
is all I demand. Reasonable, I hope? If not--" She shrugged her
shoulders and bega