of murder in
Idaho--the gold mine would help some of them to do that! But if it should
ever get in their papers here, they would collectively think it their duty
to each other not to recognize me."

"Oh, Montana, my dear child, why do you not forget that horrible life, and
leave your mind free to partake of the advantages now surrounding you?"
and Miss Seldon sighed with real distress, and dropped her ivory needles
despairingly. "It seems so strange that you care to remember that which
was surely a terrible life."

"Much more so than you can know," answered the girl, coming over to her
and drawing a velvet hassock to her side. "And, my dear, good, innocent
little lady, just so long as you all try to persuade me that I should go
out among young people of my own age, just so long must I be forced to
think of how different my life has been to theirs. Some day they, too,
might learn how different it has been, and resent my presence among them.
I prefer not to run that risk. I might get to like some of them, and
then it would hurt. Besides, the more I see of people since I came here,
the more I feel that every one should remain with their own class in
life."

"But, Montana, that is not an American sentiment at all!" said Miss
Seldon, with some surprise. "But even that idea should not exclude from
refined circles. By birth you are a lady."

The girl smiled bitterly. "You mean my mother was," she answered. "But she
did not give me a gentleman for a father; and I don't believe the parents
of any of those lovely girls we meet would like them to know the daughter
of such a man, if they knew it. Now, do you understand how I feel about
myself and this social question?"

"You are foolishly conscientious and morbid," exclaimed the older lady. "I
declare, Montana, I don't know what to do with you. People like you--you
are very clever, you have youth, wealth, and beauty--yes, the last, too!
yet you shut yourself up here like a young nun. Only the theaters and the
art galleries will you visit--never a person--not even Margaret."

"Not even Margaret," repeated the girl; "and that is the crowning sin in
your eyes, isn't it? Well, I don't blame you, for she is very lovely; and
how much she thinks of you!"

"Yes!" sighed the little lady. "Mrs. Haydon is a woman of very decided
character, but not at all given to loving demonstrations to children. Long
ago, when we lived closer, little Margie would come to me daily to be
kissed and p