ume I'm rather foolish about things from Paris, but they always seem
to me to have brought a little life and gayety along. There's a dear
little white hat and stunning automobile veil goes with this suit. I can
scarcely wait to see how pretty you're going to look in it all."

For answer the girl turned to the wall, hid her face in the pillows,
and sobbed.

Kate laid a hand upon her hair--soft, fine brown hair with tempting
little waves and gleams in it. There came to her a hideous vision of
how that hair might have looked by this time had she not--by the
merest chance--

It gave her a feeling of proprietary tenderness for the girl. It seemed
indeed that this life was in her hands--for was it not her hands had kept
it a life?

"Please," she murmured gently, persuasively, as the sobs grew wilder.

Suddenly the girl raised her head and turned upon Katie passionately.
"What do you mean? What is this all about? I know well enough that people
are not like this! This is not the way the world is!"

"Not like what?" Kate asked quietly.

"Doing things for people they don't have to do things for! Taking people
into their houses and giving them things--their best things!--treating
them as if there was some reason for treating them like that! I never
heard of such a thing. What are you doing it for?"

Katie sat there smiling at her calmly. "Do you want to know the
honest truth?"

The girl nodded, looking at her with anticipatory defiance, but that
defiance which could so easily crumble to despair.

"Very well then," she began lightly, "here goes. I don't know
that it will sound very well, but it has the doubtful virtue of
being true. The first reason is that it interests me; perhaps I
should even say--amuses me. I always did like new things--queer
things--surprises--things different. And the other reason is that
I've taken a sure enough liking to you."

She had drawn back at the first reason; but the bluntness of the first
must have conveyed a sense of honesty in the second, for like the child
who has been told something nice, a smile was faintly suggested beneath
the tears.

"Would you like to hear my favorite quotation from Scripture?" Kate
wanted to know.

At thought of Katie's having a favorite quotation the smile grew a little
more defined.

"My favorite quotation is this: 'Take no thought for the morrow.' Perhaps
it ends in a way that spoils it; I would never read the rest of it,
fearing it would ruin itself