rts, lifting her face in abject pleading. "Whatever
you does to me, don't send little Kitty away! Don't git a mad on the
baby! Say you won't, Miss Kate, say you won't!"

"Nonsense!" Kate spoke more gently. "Nobody's going to 'do' anything to
you, or to the baby, either. I suppose you cannot help your ignorance.
That's our job.--But it is evident that you can't be trusted."

"Yes'm, I kin!" sobbed the girl, childishly. "Yes'm, I kin, too! Just
you try me."

"Very well, I'll try you." Kate made a quick decision. "Listen to me,
Mag! It was I who met Mr. Channing and--persuaded him to go away. But
Jacqueline does not know this, and she must never know it. I will not
have my girl shamed before her mother. She must think he went off of his
own accord, because he was afraid to take her.--Do you understand?"

Mag nodded, sniffling.

"You are to say nothing of what has happened to-night, either to
Jacqueline or to any one else. You have been sound asleep all night! Do
you hear?"

"But supposin'," said Mag fearfully, "supposin' Miss Jacky axes me
questions?"

"Then you must lie. You know how to do that, I suppose!" said Kate, with
some impatience.

As it happened, that was one thing Mag Henderson did not know how to do,
certainly not with the clear, candid eyes of Jacqueline upon her. But an
alternative occurred to her, and she made her promise.

"I won't never tell, I won't never tell nobody, Miss Kate, cross my
heart and hope to die!"

"Very well, then." Mrs. Kildare was rather touched by the girl's
contrition, her eagerness to be trusted. She held out a forgiving hand.
"Shake hands on it, and remember this is for Jacky's sake."

Mag, with a gulp, put her hand into the Madam's, and forgot for the
moment that she had been a creature hunted, looked down upon, ashamed to
face decent people. Whatever harm she had done, she intended to atone
for, even with sacrifice.

Kate patted her on the shoulder. "Now then, run and bring a pot of black
coffee to my room, and see that I am not disturbed for at least two
hours."

When she emerged at the end of that time, a little hollow-eyed and
stiff, but ready for the day's routine, she found upon inquiry that
Jacqueline had kept to her room with the prophesied headache and did not
wish to be disturbed; also, that Mag had gone down to the village on an
errand. She paused uncertainly at Jacqueline's door, but decided finally
to respect the girl's desire for privacy, glad herself