But I can not well come again, and it
is raining torrents outside."

"Yes, you may enter, and remain until the storm abates," said
Bernardine, cheerfully. "My father would not let any one leave his door
in such a storm as this. Pray come in, madame."

"It is kind of you to say 'madame' to a creature like me," sighed the
stranger, following the girl into the poorly furnished but scrupulously
neat apartment.

Bernardine smiled.

"When I was very young, one of the first lessons my dear mother taught
me was to be polite to every one," she returned, quietly.

"You look like your mother, my dear," said Miss Rogers, huskily. "I--I
was afraid you would not."

"Did you know my mother?" exclaimed Bernardine, clasping her hands
together, and looking eagerly at the stranger in the coarse, ill-fitting
gown.

"Yes, my dear; I knew her years ago, when we were both young girls. She
looked then as you do now. I was distantly related to her, in fact. I--I
was wealthy in those days, but I have since lost all my money, and am
now reduced to penury--ay, to want," murmured the shabbily dressed
woman.

Bernardine sprung forward excitedly.

"Surely you can not be the great Miss Rogers of California, of whom I
have heard her speak thousands of times?"

"Yes, I am Miss Rogers, my dear; great once, in the eyes of the world,
when I had money, but despised now, that I am reduced and in want."

In a moment Bernardine's arms were around her, and tears were falling
from the girl's beautiful dark eyes.

"Oh, do not say that, dear Miss Rogers!" she cried. "_I_ love you
because my mother loved you in the days that are past. Money does not
always bring love, and the loss of it can not lessen the love of those
who owe us allegiance, and who have a true affection for us. Welcome, a
thousand times welcome to our home, dear aunt, if you will let me call
you that; and--and I shall use my influence to have father invite you to
share our humble home forever, if you only will."

"No, no, Bernardine," replied Miss Rogers. "You have mouths enough to
earn bread for."

"One more would not signify," declared Bernardine; "and your presence
beneath this roof would amply compensate me. I would take a world of
pleasure in working a little harder than I do now to keep you here."

"Before you give me too much hope on that point you had better talk it
over with your father. He may think differently from what you do. He may
not want to keep a tramp's boar