ice of Humanity, of Charlotte, of everything and everybody
that prevented her hearing when there was a knock at the door, and
praying to the Lord that it might not be a bill.

The secret society was practically dissolved by this time, and very
soon afterwards the catastrophe Beth had been dreading occurred, and
wrought a great change in her life. It happened one day when she was
not at home. Aunt Grace Mary was so alarmed by her cough and the
delicacy of her appearance that she had braved Uncle James and carried
her off to stay with her at Fairholm for a change. Once she was away
from the sound of the knocks, Beth suffered less, and began to revive
and be herself again to the extent of taking Aunt Grace Mary into her
confidence boldly.

"Beth, Beth, Beth!" said that poor good lady tenderly, "you naughty
girl, how could you! Running in debt with nothing to pay; why, it
isn't honest!"

"So _I_ think," said Beth in cordial agreement, taking herself aside
from her own acts, as it were, and considering them impartially. "Help
me out of this scrape, Aunt Grace Mary, and I'll never get into such
another."

"But how much do you owe, Beth dear?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Beth answered. "Pounds for Tom Briggs alone."

"Who's _he_?" was Aunt Grace Mary's horrified exclamation.

"Oh, only the horse--a dark bay with black points. I rode him a lot,
and oh! it _was_ nice! It was like poetry, like living it, you know,
like being a poem one's self. And I'm glad I did it. If I should die
for it, I couldn't regret it. And I shouldn't wonder if I did die, for
I feel as if those knocks had fairly knocked me to bits."

"Nonsense, Beth, you silly child, don't talk like that," said Aunt
Grace Mary. "What else do you owe?"

"Oh, then there's Mrs. Andrews, the confectioner's, bill."

"Confectioner's!" Aunt Grace Mary exclaimed. "O Beth! I never thought
you were greedy."

"Well, I don't think I am," Beth answered temperately. "I've been very
hungry, though. But I never touched any of those good things myself. I
only got them for Charlotte when she had heavy work to do for the
Secret Service of Humanity."

"The _what_?" Aunt Grace Mary demanded.

"The game we played. Then there's the hairdresser's bill, that must be
pretty big. I had to get curls and plaits and combs and things,
besides having my hair dressed for entertainments to which I was
obliged to go----"

"Beth! _are_ you mad?" Aunt Grace Mary interrupted. "You've never be