just the girl in her
talking to another girl. I seen Bonnie Bell give her another look, kind
of asting like--she herself was free and friendly every way; but she
hadn't been used to this right along lately. So she looks at this
Katherine Kimberly right close for about half a second, till she seen
she was on the square.

Then this Kimberly girl puts her arm round Bonnie Bell. That was the way
them two went down to the boathouse--their arms around one another. When
they come back, in about ten minutes or so, they was talking so fast
neither one of them could of heard what the other was saying.

"Oh, my goodness!" says Katherine after a little. "I must be going home.
It isn't far, you know."

"Yes; I know," says Bonnie Bell, quiet.

"And you said you'd take me home in your car?"

"And you want me to?" says Bonnie Bell, kind of funny.

"I wish you would--if you will. Of course I could walk."

"Does your head hurt now?" ast Bonnie Bell.

The girl looked at her straight. Then I knew she was on the square.

"No, it don't," says she; "but I'd like it if you would take me home in
your car," says she. "I want you to come in and meet my mommah. We want
to come down here if you'll let us, all of us. Will you let us? Will you
let us, Bonnie?" says she.

Now, ain't it funny how much can happen quiet and easy? I expect more had
happened for Bonnie Bell this last hour or so than had in a whole year
before--and all by accident, like most good things comes to us. Not a
woman in that block had ever called on Bonnie Bell and it didn't look
like they ever would. We wasn't on the map--even me, that ain't got any
brains at all, knowed that.

And yet I could tell that if Bonnie Bell Wright drove along the front of
that block with Katherine Kimberly in her car, and they got off at the
Kimberlys' and went in--and if the Kimberlys come up to our house,
too--why, then I knowed we was on the map. I don't think Bonnie Bell
cared. What was in her heart was mostly gladness at meeting some girl
friend she could talk to right free.

Of course, living there so long, I couldn't help knowing some of the
things along the Row. I knowed there was a sort of a fight there as to
which was the queen of Millionaire Row, which was the same as being the
queen of the society of this here city of Chicago. Either it was this
Mrs. Henry D. Kimberly or else it was Mrs. David Abraham Wisner. The
Kimberlys was in wholesale leather, while the Wisners was in w