ebbe!" said Jane, in her embarrassment turning to hang up a
skirt that had fallen from its hook. "That's what they say sometimes in
Chrishun Deavor meetin'. Ever go to Chrishun Deavor? Better go when you
get out home. They have awful good socials an' ice cream, and you'll
meet some real nice folks. We've got a peach of a minister, and his wife
is perfec'ly dandy. I tell you I missed 'em when I came to the city!
They was always doing something nice fer the young folks."

"How interesting!" said Betty, wondering if she might really be going to
live like other girls. Then the shadow of her danger fell over her once
more, and her cheek paled.

"If I can only get there safely," she shuddered. "Oh, Jane! You can't
understand what it would be to have to go back!"

"Well, you're not going back. You're going to Tinsdale, and nobody's
going to find you ever, unless you want 'em to! See? Now, listen! We
haven't any time to waste. You oughtta get off on the ten o'clock train.
I put out some clothes there for yeh. They ain't like yours, but it
won't do fer you to go dressed like a millionairess. Folks out to
Tinsdale would suspect yeh right off the bat. You gotta go plain like
me, and it's this way: You're a friend I picked up in the city whose
mother is dead and you need country air a while, see? So I sent you home
to stay with Ma till you got strong again. I'm wirin' Ma. She'll
understand. She always does. I kinda run Ma anyhow. She thinks the sun
rises an' sets in me, so she'll do just what I say."

"I'm afraid I oughtn't to intrude," said Betty soberly, taking up the
coarse, elaborately trimmed lingerie with a curious look, and trying not
to seem to notice that it was different from any she had ever worn
before.

"Say! Looka here!" said Jane Carson, facing round from her coffee cup on
the washstand. "I'm sorry to criticize, but if you could just talk a
little slang or something. Folks'll never think you belong to me.
_'Intrude!'_ Now, that sounds stuck up! You oughtta say 'be in the way,'
or something natural like that. See?"

"I'm afraid I don't," said Betty dubiously, "but I'll try."

"You're all right, Kid," said Jane with compunction in her voice. "Just
let yourself down a little like I do, and remember you don't wear silk
onderclothes now. I'm afraid those stockings won't feel very good after
yours, but you gotta be careful. An' 'f I was you I'd cut my hair off, I
really would. It's an awful pity, it's so pretty, but