ening. Miss Payne rather shook her head over the whole affair.

"I must say it puts me on edge altogether to hear you two rejoicing over
this young woman's condescension in accepting the work you lay at her
feet, while such crowds of starving wretches are begging and praying for
something to do; and here is a mysterious young woman with lady-like
manners and remarkable eyes, taken up all at once because she won't eat
and refuses to speak. It isn't just. I suspect there is something in her
past she does not like to tell."

"Your _resume_ of the facts makes Mr. Payne and me seem rather foolish,"
said Katherine. "Yet I am convinced she is worth helping, and that no
common methods will do to restore to her any relish for life. She
interests me. I may be throwing away my time and money, but I will risk
it."

"It is hard to say, of course, whether she is a deserving object or
not," added Bertie, thoughtfully; "and I have been taken in more than
once."

"More than once?" echoed his sister in a peculiar tone.

"Still, I feel with Miss Liddell that this girl's, Rachel Trant's, is
not a common case," continued Bertie.

"Her very name is suggestive of grief," said Katherine, "and she, too,
refuses to be comforted. I am sure she will tell me her story later. Her
landlady says she never receives or sends a letter, and does not seem to
have a creature belonging to her. Such desolation is appalling."

"And shows there is something radically wrong," added Miss Payne.

"I acknowledge that it has a dubious appearance," said Bertie, and
turned the conversation.

Katherine was completely taken out of herself by the interest and
curiosity excited by her meeting with Rachel Trant. She visited her
daily, and saw that she was slowly reviving. She took a wonderful
interest in the dress which Katherine had given her to make, and,
moreover, succeeded in fitting her admirably. She was evidently weak and
unequal to exertion, yet she worked with surprising diligence. Her
manner was very grave and collected--respectful, yet always ready to
respond to Katherine's effort to draw her out.

The subject on which she spoke most readily was the books Katherine lent
her. Her taste was decidedly intelligent and rather solid. To the
surprise of her young benefactress, she expressed a distaste for
novels--stories, as she called them. "I used to care for nothing else,"
she said; "but they pain me now." She expressed herself like an
educated, even ref