e next room
and found him bending over a tumbled heap of fluffy things which he
had gingerly picked from the bureau drawers.

"Help yourself," he commanded, with a wave of his hand.

"But--I oughtn't to take these things!"

"My girl," he answered in an even voice that seemed to steady her,
"when it's either these or pneumonia--it's these. I'll leave you the
candle."

"But you----"

"I'll find something."

He went out. She stood bewildered in the midst of the dimly revealed
luxury about her. The candle threw feeble rays into the dark corners
of the big room, over the four-posted oak bed covered with its
daintily monogrammed spread, over the heavy hangings at the windows,
and the bright pictures on the walls. She caught a glimpse of closets,
of a graceful dressing table, and finally saw her reflection in the
long mirror which reached to the floor.

She held the candle over her head and stared at herself. She cut but a
sorry figure in her own eyes in the midst of such spotless richness as
now surrounded her. She shivered a little as her own damp clothes
pressed clammily against her skin. Then with a flush she turned again
to the garments rifled from their perfumed hiding places. They looked
very white and crisp. She hesitated but a second.

"She'll forgive," she whispered, and threw off her dripping waist. The
clothes, almost without exception, fitted her remarkably well. She
found herself dressing leisurely, enjoying to the fullest the feel of
the rich goods. She shook her hair free, dried it as best she could,
and took some pains to put it up nicely. It was long and glossy
black, but not inclined to curl. It coiled about her head in silken
strands of dark richness.

She demurred at first at the silk dress which he had tossed upon the
bed, but she could find no other. It was of a golden yellow, dainty
and foreign in its design. It fitted snugly to her slim figure as
though it had been made for her. She stood off at a little distance
and studied herself in the mirror. She was a girl who had an instinct
for dress which had never been satisfied; a girl who could give, as
well as take, an air from her garments. She admired herself quite as
frankly as though it had been some other person who, with head
uptilted and teeth flashing in a contented smile, challenged her from
the clear surface of the mirror, looking as though she had just
stepped through the wall into the room. The cold, the wet, and for a
moment even