, miss--ma'm--I mean miss,
mum."

Something of the tragedy of her wardrobe became evident to the girl
and she went to the rescue.

"I'm sorry, but they don't go in there," she said, feeling that an
apology was due for her interference in such well-intended efforts.
"That's--you see, that's my sleeping-suit case," she added gently.

"Sleepin'-soot?" A pair of round, wondering eyes stared out through
the old woman's glasses.

The girl pointed at the silk trousers and jacket lying just inside the
nearest trunk, and the farm-wife picked them up gingerly, letting them
unfold as she did so. Just for one moment she inspected them, then
she hurriedly let them drop back into the trunk as though they were
some dangerous reptile, and, folding her arms, glared into the girl's
smiling face in comical reproach.

"You sure don't wear them pants, miss--at night? Not reely?" she
exclaimed in horrified tones.

The girl's smile hardened.

"Why, yes. Lots of girls wear sleeping-suits nowadays."

"You don't say!"

The old woman pursed up her lips in strong disapproval. Then, with a
disdainful sniff, she went on--

"Wot gals ain't comin' to I don't know, I'm sure. Wot with silk next
their skin an' them draughty stockin's, as you might say, things is
gettin' to a pretty pass. Say, I wouldn't put myself into them pants,
no, not if the President o' the United States was to stand over me an'
wouldn't let me put on nuthin' else."

The girl refrained from reply, but the obvious impossibility of the
feat appealed to her sense of humor. However, the solution of her
riddle was of prevailing interest, so she returned again to her
questioning.

"Did he say how he found me?" she demanded. "Did he tell you any--any
particulars of what happened to the cart, and--and the teamster?"

"No, ma'm--miss, beggin' your pardin,--that he didn't. I never see
sech a fresh feller outside a noospaper office. An' him the owner of
this farm that was, but isn't, as you might say. You take my word for
it he'll come to a bad end, he sure will. Wot with them wicked eyes of
his, an' that black, Dago-lookin' hair. I never did see a feller who
looked more like a scallawag than him. Makes me shiver to think of
him a-carryin' you in his two arms. Wher' from sez I--_an' why_?"

"Because I couldn't walk, I expect," the girl replied easily.

The farm-wife shook a fat, warning finger at her.

"Oh, ma'm--miss--that's wot he says! You jest wait till you've got
mor