right.
I don't mind the cold."

"I should think you were in too much of a hurry--to have forget your
shawl, and your dinner, too. Wasn't there anybody to look after you,
and see you started out properly?"

"No."

"You ain't an orphan, are you?"

"Oh, no, I've got a father and a stepmother----"

"Oh-h!" meaningly. "Is that the trouble?"

Mona fired up at once in defence of Lucy. "No, it isn't. She's just the
same as my own mother. She's so kind to me--if she hadn't been so kind
I--I wouldn't have minded so much. She sat up last night to--to finish
making my frock for me." Her words caught in her throat, and she could
say no more.

Her companion eyed first her disfigured face, and then her bedraggled
frock. "It seems to have seen trouble since last night, don't it?" he
remarked drily, and then the words and the sobs in Mona's throat poured
out together.

"That's why--I--I'm here. I can't go home and show her what I've done.
It was so pretty only this morning--and now----" Then bit by bit
Mona poured forth her tale of woe into the ears of the kindly stranger,
and Mr. Dodds sat and listened patiently, thoughtfully.

"And what about your poor father and mother and their feelings," he asked
when Mona had done.

"Oh--oh--they'll be glad to be rid of me. They'll be better without me,"
said Mona, with the air and voice of a martyr.

"Um! If you're certain sure of that, all well and good, but wouldn't it
have been better to have went back and asked them? It does seem a bit
hard that they should be made to suffer more 'cause they've suffered so
much already. They won't know but what you've been carried out to sea
'long with your poor mother's tonic."

Mona did not reply. In her inmost heart she knew that he was right,
but she hadn't the courage to face the truth. It was easier, too, to go
on than to go back, and granny would be glad to see her. She would be
sorry for her, and would make much of her. Granny always thought that all
she did was right.

In spite of her feelings, though, Mona finished her meal, and felt much
better for it, but she presently grew so sleepy she could not talk and
could scarcely keep on her seat. Mr. Dodds noticed the curly head sink
down lower and lower, then start up again with a jerk, then droop again.

"Look here--what's your name, my dear?"

"Mona--Carne," said Mona, sleepily, quite oblivious of the fact that she
had given away her identity.

"Well, Mona, wha