me," she told Mrs. Kingdon, "in the custody of--Bender, for
stealing, and he took me away to save me from jail, to bring me up here to
the 'best woman in the world,' he said, and I made light of what he had
done all the way up the trail. And he was so kind to me--me, a pickpocket.
I think I should go back--to Bender."

She spoke with the impetuosity of a child, and turned to go down the
steps.

Kurt looked on helplessly, perplexed by this last mood of his prismatic
young prisoner.

Mrs. Kingdon took the girl's arm again.

"You are going to have a bed and bath before you leave, anyway. Come with
me. Kurt, you look as if you had best go to cover, too."

Pen's outbreak had evidently spent her last drop of reserve force. She
submitted meekly to guidance through a long room with low-set windows. She
noted a tiled floor with soft rugs, a fireplace and a certain pervading
home-sense before they turned into a little hallway. Again she faintly
protested.

"I am worse than a thief," she said. "I am a liar. I haven't told
him--all."

"Never mind that now," said Mrs. Kingdon soothingly. "You've been ill
recently, haven't you?"

"Yes; I was just about at the end of--"

"You're at the end of the trail now--the trail to Top Hill. You shall have
a bath, a long sleep and something to eat before you try to tell me
anything more."

Pen went on into a sunward room generously supplied with casement windows.
A few rugs, a small but billowy bed, a chair and a table comprised the
furnishings, but an open door disclosed a bathroom and beyond that a
dressing room most adequately equipped.

"This is clover," she thought presently, when she slipped into a warm
bath.

"And this is some more clover," she murmured later, as, robed in a little
nainsook gown, she stretched out luxuriously between lavender scented
sheets. "I don't care what may come later. I know that I am going to have
a real sleep."

It was five o'clock in the afternoon when she awoke. On the chair by her
bed was a change of clothing, a pair of white tennis shoes, a dark blue
skirt, a white middy and a red tie.

"Oh!" she thought. "The kind of clothes I love."

She hastened to dress partially, then slipped on a little negligee and
began to do her hair.

"I wish it would sometimes go twice in the same place," she thought
ruefully. "I never can fix it as I like. It's the only thing that ever got
the better of me except Kind Kurt. Well!" with an impatient shake of h