r Mrs. Rogers, as I believe she is now."

"What did they say?" inquired Undine, languidly. She seemed too much
exhausted to take much interest in letters.

"Mrs. Rogers spoke kindly of you, and seemed pleased to know where you
are. Her sister had telegraphed her of your disappearance. She said she
hoped you would find a good home, for she was afraid nothing would
induce Mrs. Hicks to take you back. They remembered you at the 'Home,'
too, and are willing to have you there again if we will pay your
expenses back to California."

"But I don't want to go back there," protested Undine, lifting her head,
and speaking more like her old self. "Oh, Mrs. Graham, must I go? Can't
I stay here? I'll do anything you want me to, and I can work hard, just
wait and see if I can't."

Mrs. Graham smiled as she glanced at the soft little hands, which did
not look as though their owner were capable of much hard work.

"That is just what we have been talking about," she said. "I should be
glad of a little extra help in the house; Juanita isn't as young as she
once was, and I want to give Marjorie a little more time for study. So
if you think you would really care to stay with us, and are willing to
work for small wages--"

"Wages!" cried Undine indignantly; "I don't want any money; I only want
to stay with you, and work for my board. You're all so kind, and ... and
I think you must be more like the people I used to live with than Miss
Brent and Mrs. Hicks were. Oh, if I could only remember!"

"There, there, we won't talk any more about remembering just now,"
interrupted Mrs. Graham cheerfully. "You shall stay with us, at least
for the present, and who knows what may happen in the future. Now lie
down again, and try to take a nap before supper. You look very tired,
and a good sleep will do your head more good than anything else." And
yielding to a sudden impulse, Mrs. Graham stooped and kissed the flushed
face on the pillow, almost as tenderly as if this strange, friendless
little waif had been her own Marjorie.

CHAPTER IV

A VISITOR FROM THE EAST

"OF all the different kinds of housework, I think pickling is the most
disagreeable!"

Marjorie made this remark as she came into her aunt's room one glorious
October afternoon. Miss Graham's room was the prettiest and most
luxurious in the ranch house. Every comfort which limited income and
inaccessible surroundings could afford had been procured for the
invalid, and to Marj