. Farron Saftleigh had simply destroyed the letter, of no
consequence at all as coming from a person not primarily concerned
or authorized, and set off from Denver City the same day for a
business visit to San Francisco.

Sylvie saw the plain fact; that they were penniless. And this could
not be told to her mother.

She went to Desire Ledwith, and asked her what she could do.

"I would go into a household anywhere, as Dot Ingraham and Bel Bree
have done, to earn board and wages, and spend my money for my
mother; but I can't leave her. And there's no sewing work to get,
even if I could do it at night and in honest spare time. I know, as
it is, that my service isn't worth what you give me in return, and
of course I cannot stay here any longer now."

"Of course you can stay where God puts you, dear," answered Desire
Ledwith. "Let your side of it alone for a minute, and think of mine.
If you were in my place,--trying to live as one of the _large
household_, remember, and looking for your opportunities,--what
would you say,--what would you plainly hear said to you,--about
this?"

Sylvie was silent.

"Tell me truly, Sylvie. Put it into words. What would it be? What
would you hear?"

"Just what you do, I suppose," said Sylvie, slowly "But I _don't_
hear it on my side. My part doesn't seem to chord."

"Your part just pauses. There are no notes written just here, in
your score. Your part is to wait. Think, and see if it isn't. The
Dakie Thaynes are going out West again. Mr. Thayne knows about
lands, and such things. He would do something, and let you know. A
real business man would make this Saftleigh fellow afraid."

The Thaynes--Mrs. Dakie Thayne is our dear little old friend Ruth
Holabird, you know--had been visiting in Boston; staying partly
here, and partly at Mrs. Frank Scherman's. At Asenath's they were
real "comfort-friends;" Asenath had the faculty of gathering only
such about her. She felt no necessity, with them, for grand, late
dinners, or any show; there was no trouble or complication in her
household because of them. Ruth insisted upon the care of her own
room; it was like the "cooeperative times" at Westover. Mrs. Scherman
said it was wonderful, when your links were with the right people,
how simple you could make your art of living, you could actually be
"quite Holabird-y," even in Boston! But this digresses.

"I shall speak to Mr. Thayne about it," said Desire. "And now, dear,
if you could just mar