nd white! Not like a woman at all!"

Morgana laughed merrily.

"Not like a woman! Oh dear! What am I like then?"

Manella's eyes grew darker than ever in the effort to explain her
thought.

"I do not know"--she said, hesitatingly--"But--once--here in this
garden--we found a wonderful butterfly with white wings--all
white,--and it was resting on a scarlet flower. We all went out to look
at it, because it was unlike any other butterfly we had ever seen,--its
wings were like velvet or swansdown. You remind me of that butterfly."

Morgana smiled.

"Did it fly away?"

"Oh, yes. Very soon! And an hour or so after it had flown, the scarlet
flower where it had rested was dead."

"Most thrilling!" And Morgana gave a little yawn. "Is that breakfast?
Yes? Stay with me while I have it! Are you the head chambermaid at the
Plaza?"

Manella shrugged her shoulders.

"I do not know what I am! I do everything I am asked to do as well as I
can."

"Obliging creature! And are you well paid?"

"As much as I want"--Manella answered, indifferently. "But there is no
pleasure in the work."

"Is there pleasure in ANY work?"

"If one works for a person one loves,--surely yes!" the girl murmured
as if she were speaking to herself, "The days would be too short for
all the work to be done!"

Morgana glanced at her, and the flash of her eyes had the grey-blue of
lightning. Then she poured out the coffee and tasted it.

"Not bad!" she commented--"Did you make it?"

Manella nodded, and went on talking at random.

"I daresay it's not as good as it ought to be"--she said--"If you had
brought your own maid I should have asked HER to make it. Women of your
class like their food served differently to us poor folk, and I don't
know their ways."

Morgana laughed.

"You quaint, handsome thing! What do you know about it? What, in your
opinion, IS my class?"

Manella pulled nervously at the ends of the bright coloured kerchief
she wore knotted across her bosom, and hesitated a moment.

"Well, for one thing you are rich"--she said, at last--"There is no
mistaking that. Your lovely clothes--you must spend a fortune on them!
Then--all the people here wonder at your automobile--and your chauffeur
says it is the most perfect one ever made! And all these riches make
you think you ought to have everything just as you fancy it. I suppose
you ought--I'm not sure! I don't believe you have much feeling,--you
couldn't, you know! It is not as if