th
you, and you can try on your dress while we are by."

"My dress is all right," said Beatrice. "I have tried it; it fits. I
don't want to put it on to-night. I am tired."

Her face was pale, her expression anxious.

Mabel hung back and looked disappointed.

"But you promised," she began.

"Hush, Mabel," said Catherine. She hid quick intuitions, and she saw at
a glance that something was the matter.

"Bee would not break her promise if she could help it," she said to her
sister. "Don't you see that she looks very tired. Bee, shall I take you
to mother?"

"Yes, Catherine," replied Beatrice.

The two girls walked away together. As they mounted the stairs,
Catherine stole another glance at her friend. Then almost timidly she
put her hand through Beatrice's arm.

"To-morrow, Bee," she said, with a loving hug, "you will be _my_
real, real sister."

Beatrice stopped, turned round, and looked at Catherine.

"Kitty, I can't deceive you. I--love you, but I am not going to be
what--what you suppose."

"Then there is something wrong!" exclaimed Catherine. "I feared it from
my mother's face when I saw her an hour ago. Now I am sure. Bee, are you
going to fail us at the last moment? Oh, Beatrice, you have made him so
nice, and we have all been so happy, and mother has said more than once
to me, 'Beatrice Meadowsweet has saved us,' and now, just at the very
last, just at the very end, are you going to be a coward--a deserter?"

"No," said Beatrice. "I won't desert you. I won't fail you. It is given
to me to save your brother Loftus, to really save him. Don't be
frightened, Kitty. I have a hard task to go through. I have to say some
things to your mother which will try her. Yes, I know they will try her
much, but I am doing right, and you must help me, and be brave. Yes, you
must be brave because you know I am doing right."

"I will trust you, Beatrice," said Catherine. Her dark eyes shone, over
the pallor of her face there came a glow. She opened the door of her
mother's room.

"Here is Beatrice, mother. And may I--may I--stay too?"

"No, Kate, you are unreasonable. What a long time you have kept
Beatrice. She has been in the house for ten minutes. I heard you two
gossiping in the corridor. Girls are unreasonable, and they don't
understand that the impatience of the old is the worst impatience of
all. Go, Kate."

Catherine's eyes sought her friend's. They seemed to say mutely:

"Be good to her, Beatrice, she