lentiful
three years ago, and I remember this one so distinctly because of the
stain. The boys used to say I must have murdered somebody to get it,
and that it was stained with blood."

He turned to Katie again.

"The money is nothing, Katie. Why did you run away that day? I never
have been able to finish that picture since."

Katie's eyes dropped. Her cheeks flushed.

"I 'shamed to tell," she murmured.

Dicky muttered an oath beneath his breath. "I thought so," he said
slowly, then he spoke sternly:

"Never mind being ashamed to tell, Katie. I want the truth. I worked
at your portrait that morning, and then I had to go to the studio.
When I came back you had gone, bag and baggage, and with, the money I
gave you to pay the tailor. I never could finish that picture, and it
would have brought me a nice little sum."

My brain was whirling by this time. Dicky in a flat with this ignorant
Polish girl paying his tailor bills, and posing for portraits. What
did it all mean?

"Where did you go?" Dicky persisted.

Katie lifted her head and looked at him proudly.

"You know when you left that morning, Mr. Lestaire, he was painting,
too? Well, Mr. Graham, I always good girl in old country and here. I
go to confession. I always keep good. Mr. Lestaire, he kiss me, say
bad tings to me. He scare me. I afraid if I stay I no be good girl.
So I run queeck away. I never dare come bade. That Mr. Lestaire he one
bad man, one devil."

Dicky whistled softly.

"So that was it?" he said. "Well that was just about what that
pup would do. That was one reason I got out of our housekeeping
arrangements. He set too swift a pace for me, and that was going some
in those days."

He turned to Katie, smiling.

"You see you don't have to be afraid any more. I'm a respectable
married man now, and it's perfectly safe for you to work here. Mrs.
Graham will take care of you. Run along about your work now, that's a
good girl."

Katie giggled appreciatively. Her mercurial temperament had already
sent her from the depths to the heights.

"The dinner all spoiled while I cry like a fool," she said. "You ready
pretty soon. I serve."

She hastened to the kitchen, and I turned to Dicky inquiringly.

"I suppose you think you have gotten into a lunatic asylum, Madge. Of
all the queer things that Katie should apply for a job here and that
you should take her."

"I didn't know you ever kept house in a flat before, Dicky."

"It was a very sho