catch her breath. She
had never imagined such wealth--for it seemed quite like wealth to her.
Where had it all come from? There were piles of pretty, lace-trimmed
garments, boxes of handkerchiefs, ribbons, and laces, and actually a
number of dresses, of whose existence she had never dreamed--dresses
quaint enough in fashion, but still rich and elaborate.

"Why, Pam!" she exclaimed, "whose are they? Why have you never--"

Pamela stopped her with an abrupt gesture.

"They are mine," she said. "I have had them for years, ever since
Arthur--Mr. Brunwalde died. They were to have been my bridal trousseau,
and most of them were presents from Lady Throckmorton, who was very kind
to me then. Of course, you know well enough," with dry bitterness, "I
should never have had them otherwise. I thought I would show them to you
to-night, and offer them to you. They may be of use just now."

She stopped and cleared her throat here, with an odd, strained sound;
and before she went on, she knelt down before one of the open trunks,
and began to turn over its contents.

"I wish you to go to Lady Throckmorton's," she said, speaking without
looking at the amazed young face at her side. "The life here is a weary
one for a girl to lead, without any change, and the visit may be a good
thing for you in many ways. My visit to Lady Throckmorton's would have
made me a happy woman, if death had not come between me and my
happiness. I know I am not at fault in saying this to you. I mean it in
a manner a girl can scarcely understand--I mean, that I want to save you
from the life you must lead, if you do not go away from here."

Her hands were trembling, her voice, cold and dry, as it usually was,
trembled too, and the moment she paused, the amazed, picturesque young
figure swooped down upon her as it were, falling upon its knees,
flinging its white-robed arms about her, and burying her in an
unexpected confusion of black hair and oriental shawl, showering upon
her loving, passionate little caresses. For the first time in her life,
Theo was not secretly awed by her.

"Why, Pam!" she cried, the tears running down her cheeks. "Dear, old,
generous Pamela! Do you care for me so much--enough to make such a
sacrifice! Oh, Pam! I am only a girl as you say; but I think that,
because I am a girl, perhaps I understand a little. Do you think that I
could let you make such a sacrifice? Do you think I could let you give
them to me--the things that were to hav