ad been only twenty-four when she died. Clo
had to admit that most of what she knew of mother was from the Sisters
who looked after the orphans. Yes, it was in an orphan asylum that the
child had been brought up. About father she knew nothing, except that
mother had "lost" him before her baby was born, and that he "came from
America." Evidently his name had been Riley, because mother was Mrs.
Riley, and Clo was Clodagh because "that was a name in mother's family."

The Sisters had been particularly kind. Mother had given Clo into their
care, because she lodged, and had fallen ill, in the street of the
orphan asylum. There had been a little money, which was placed in a bank
for the child. The Sisters had known that mother was a lady; but the
orphan girls, when they grew up, were supposed to be put into service.
Neither Clo nor the Sisters had wanted her to be a servant, and when she
was sixteen a situation was found for her as "companion" to an old lady.
Clo "stuck it out" for nearly two years. Then she ran away and sailed
for the United States, her unknown father's land, with the sixty pounds
which was her fortune. This money was all spent, and she was nearly
starving when she snatched at what she could get with Moreton and
Payntor.

"But I just couldn't eat and dress on my wages," Clo explained, in her
soft, rich voice, rather deep for so young and small a girl, and made
creamy by a touch of Irish brogue. "One has to do both in New York. I
was so hungry all the time, if the girls left a crust on their plates I
used to hide it. I expect the way I'd look to see if there'd be anything
left gave them the idea I was a sly piece. They thought I put on airs,
too. Me! P'raps it was my not knowing their kind of slang. And it's true
I did steal once, or almost the same thing as steal. There was a dollar
bill on the floor under a table one afternoon. 'Stead of trying to find
who was the owner, I slipped it inside my dress. I must have been nearly
off my head, or I'd never have done it, darling Mrs. Sands! When the
time came to go home to my room that night, I didn't go. I went to a
restaurant, and I ate. I ate a whole dollar's worth of dinner, just so I
couldn't give any money back if I changed my mind next day. Well, next
day was the day you know of. And what with knowing I was a thief, and
the girls knowing it, too--though there was no proof--I thought the best
thing for a lost child was to die!"

Beverley had by this time "m