left out in the cold. The girls who were disappointed hurried
away in silence, but many of the men whom No. 2884 had not thought of
as friends, scarcely as acquaintances, came up to say good-bye. They
held out their hands and remarked that they were "glad to have known
her."

Some of her ways and some of her sayings were pretty good, they
guessed, and they wouldn't forget her, although they didn't suppose
that they'd ever meet again. Suddenly Win realized that they had been
kind and pleasant, so far as it had lain in their power, and she,
staying on, would miss the faces that were gone. She choked a little
over these men's appreciation of the difference between her "ways" and
those of some other girls, and was half ashamed that it should
surprise her.

"I expect I'll have to take to the sea again," sighed the ex-steward.
"I wanted a little more time on land, but it ain't to be. Don't
forget, you and your friend Sadie, that I can get you jobs on one of
the big greyhounds."

"What a Christmas Eve!" Win said to herself aloud, as she almost fell
into her room at eleven-thirty. "In half an hour more it will be
Christmas, and I don't suppose there's one soul with a thought for me
in all Europe or America!"

But on the ugly red cover (warranted not to betray dirt) of the
rickety bed were two parcels--a big box and a little one. Somebody
must have been thinking of her, after all!

Revived, she cut the strings on both boxes and opened the little one
first, on the childlike principle of "saving the best thing for the
last."

"Lilies of the valley! Why, how lovely! Who could have sent them?"
There was no name, and a question asked itself in Win's mind that
spoiled all her pleasure--but only for a moment. She unwrapped the big
box, and on the cover (which looked curiously familiar) she read,
evidently scrawled in furious haste, with pencil: "From Ursus to
Lygia, with respectful regards and wishes for a merry Christmas. Also
please accept lilies."

(Miss Leavitt had testified her admiration for the blond giant by
sending him a box of her name flowers, bought with some of the
"change" Mr. Logan had told her to keep. The admired one had promptly
"passed them on." But Win did not know this, and he didn't see why she
ever should. Anyhow, flowers were flowers!)

The girl was so pleased to know that the lilies came from Ursus, not
another, that she could almost have kissed them--but not quite. Then,
in her relief, she lifted t