ne! I've waited on her. She's fine--so aristocratic,
but no airs. I'd never have been here, but for her, maybe. She and
the other League ladies got us our vacations, they say, at our place,
and she started the lending fund so those that need it can get the
third week, by borrowing. That gives us the trip both ways, you see.
She must have a grand life--Sister says there's no house she couldn't
go into here or the other side, and every hour of the day is planned
out for her by a secretary she keeps. Sister says she wonders when she
ever has a moment to herself."

"Perhaps she will have--some day," said the other woman quickly. "I
agree with your sister, that she needs it."

"Sister says you look like her," the clerk went on, with a laugh. "The
hair and eyes, she says. Of course, I see what she means, but,
gracious--if you could have seen her the day she came in last winter!
A sable wrap to her knees, and her hair all waved, and besides, her
figure was different--much taller."

"All dark women with thick grey hair resemble each other, more or less,
I think," said Mrs. Stranger.

When she walked down the landing plank to the Tilbury dock, Mrs.
Stranger stood for a moment, scanning the little crowd that waited on
the water's edge. She appeared to expect some one, for her tin box lay
at her feet, and she stood negligently by it, her head raised rather
haughtily for a woman of her general appearance. Suddenly she smiled
oddly, drew again that deep-lunged breath of relief, stooped and picked
up the box, and carried it unassisted to the great train-shed.

From London she travelled south and west, and beyond purchasing at
Salisbury a warm red-hooded cape bought nothing and transacted no
business except for a brief cablegram to New York despatched from
London, signed with initials only, and a telegram to a small town in
the south of England. On arriving at this town, she waited fully an
hour at the little station, but if the time were wasted, she did not
seem to feel the waste annoying, for she sat comfortably on a bench,
her box and umbrella at her stout-shod feet, her eyes placidly on the
distance. A stray dog attached himself to her and laid his black head
on her umbrella; she made no motion to drive him away.

About noon a red-faced teamster drove into the square before the
station, looked about inquiringly, caught her eye and dismounted.

"Name o' Stranger?" he asked gruffly; she nodded.

"Have you the w