ace and hands and arms--a strange, eclipsing, brown disguise.
There had been a quick, sharp plan to take her abroad and they prepared
her hastily against risks on board the steamer. The plan had been
abandoned as too dangerous. But the colour clung to the soft skin; and
the hair, cropped close to the neck, had a stubby, uncouth look. No
one seeking Betty Harris, would have looked twice at the queer, little,
brownie-like creature, dressing itself with careful haste. It lifted a
plaid dress from the chair--large squares of red and green plaid--and
looked at it with raised brows and dropped it over the cropped head. The
skirt came to the top of the rough shoes on the small feet. Betty Harris
looked down at the skirt--and smoothed it a little... and dropped on her
knees beside the bed--the red and green plaids sweeping around her--and
said the little prayer that Miss Stone had taught her to say at home.

XXXI

A BUTTERFLY FLIGHT

She came down the stairs with slow feet, pausing a little on each stair,
as if to taste the pleasure that was coming to her. _She was going
out-of-doors--under the sky!_

She pushed open the door at the foot and looked into the small hall--she
had been here before. They had hurried her through--into the kitchen,
and down to the cellar. They had stayed there a long time--hours and
hours--and Mrs. Seabury had held her on her lap and told her stories.

She stepped down the last step into the hall. The outside door at
the end was open and through it she could see the men at work in the
garden--and the warm, shimmering air. She looked, with eager lip, and
took a step forward--and remembered--and turned toward the kitchen.
Mrs. Seabury had said she must have breakfast first--a good, big
breakfast--and then.... She opened the door and looked in. The woman was
standing by the stove. She looked up with a swift glance and nodded to
her. "That's right, dearie. Your breakfast is all ready--you come in and
eat it." She drew up a chair to the table and brought a glass of milk
and tucked the napkin under her brown chin, watching her with keen,
motherly eyes, while she ate.

"That's a good girl!" she said. She took the empty plate and carried
it to the sink. "Now you wait till I've washed these--and then--!" She
nodded toward the open window.

The child slipped down and came over to her and stood beside her while
she worked, her eyes full of little, wistful hope. "I've most forgot
about out-of-doors,