ned it myself. See, I wear this with it."

She took from her box a dull silver girdle and chatelaine of antique,
carved silver, and a comb for her hair of similar style.

"Lovely!" cried Patty. "Oh, you're an artist, all right! Dress your hair
low--in a soft coil; but of course you know how to do that. I'll send
Louise to hook you up, and I'll come back for you when I'm dressed.
Good-by for now."

Waving her hand gaily, laughing Patty ran away to her own room, and
Christine sank down in a big chair to collect her senses.

It was all so new and strange to her. Brought up in the plainest
circumstances, the warmth and light and fragrance of this home seemed to
her like fairyland.

And Nan and Patty, in their gay moods and their happy self-assuredness,
seemed as if of a different race of beings from herself.

"But I'll learn it," she thought, with a determination which she had
rarely felt and scarce knew she possessed. Her nature was one that needed
a spur or help from another, and then she was ready to do her part, too.

But she could not take the initiative. And now, realising the
disinterested kindness of these good people, her sense of gratitude made
her resolve to meet their kindness with appreciation.

"Yes," she said to herself, as she deftly dressed her hair in front of
the mirror, "I'll conquer this silly timidity if it kills me! I'll take
Patty Fairfield for a model, and I'll acquire that very same ease and
grace that she has."

Christine was imitative by nature, and it seemed to her now that she
could never feel stupidly embarrassed again.

But after Patty came to take her downstairs, and as they neared the
drawing-room door, the foolish shyness all returned, and she was white
and trembling as she crossed the hall.

"Brace up," whispered Patty, understanding, "you're looking lovely,
Christine. Now be gay and chattery."

"Chattery," indeed! Her tongue seemed paralysed, her very neck felt
strained and stiff, and she stumbled over the rug in her effort to stop
trembling. In her own room, alone with Patty and Nan, she had overcome
this, but now, in the brilliantly lighted drawing-room and the presence
of other people, the terrible timidity returned, and Christine made a
most unsuccessful entrance.

But Mr. Fairfield ignored the girl's embarrassment, and said, cordially
but quietly: "How do you do, Miss Farley? I am very glad to welcome you
here."

His kind handclasp reassured her even more than his p