ry white girl should. The fact that you and I
sent away our beaus makes us all the surer that others shouldn't. Her
legacy should be a help in getting her settled."

"Now I hope she won't get married for some time."

Miss Patty was indignant. "And I hope she'll marry at once before she
becomes too fond of her liberty. When she was colored it was different.
I always discouraged, as you know, her going with the men of her race.
Dear me, how mixed up I am getting. And she is really white! I shall
have to remember that. Dear, dear!"

"Here comes Hertha now."

Looking up Miss Patty saw Hertha in her maid's dress, her cheeks a
little whiter than usual, dark shadows under her eyes, but modest,
quiet, standing in the doorway. "My dear," she began, and collapsed
again.

Hertha ran to her all anxious attention. "Is it bad news?" she asked
turning to Miss Witherspoon while she rubbed her mistress's hands.

"No, Hertha," was the answer, "it isn't bad news. It's about you."

The girl grew sick with fright. What had they found out?

"It's this," Miss Witherspoon said, pushing over the letter inclosed in
Miss Patty's and addressed to the girl.

"What are you doing?" Miss Patty recovered at once when she saw her
prerogative as vendor of news about to be destroyed. "Bostwick Unthank
wrote to me that the shock might not be too great. Don't look at that
letter, honey," turning to Hertha with deep affection and concern in her
voice. "Wait till I've told you about it. It's from a lawyer, my dear,
and it seems a little money has been left you. We don't know how much
but it should be a little help, I'm sure."

"Who has left it?" Hertha asked.

She was tense with excitement, afraid. She could not dissociate this
happening with the night through which she had passed. She dared not
trust herself to tear open her own letter before these two women.
Despairing, she turned to Miss Witherspoon who stood quiet, composed,
just as one of her teachers would have stood at school. "Please tell me
at once," she asked, "what this means?"

And Miss Witherspoon answered in a matter-of-fact tone such as a teacher
might have used: "It seems, Hertha, that you are not colored but white."

The girl turned from one woman to another. "Don't mock me," she gasped.

"My darling!" Miss Patty held out her arms to her favorite. "There,
dear, there, don't look so frightened, though I must say," glancing with
scorn at her guest, "it would be enough to frighte