rs. Cassidy had come to the door at the first sound of the wheels, and
when she saw who was near, she darted out and swiftly and stealthily
removed the obstruction from her neighbour's window. Then she went to
the gate to greet Old Angus, suave and gentle of speech, and as
innocent looking as the meek heap of boards now lying in a corner of
her yard.

"Well, well, well," laughed Madame as they walked on. "Even if Old
Angus would merely drive up and down Willow Lane I believe he would
make the people better."

When Helen reached Rosemount she slipped in at the side door and up the
back stair. It was the day the Misses Armstrong entertained the whist
club, and a clatter of teacups and a hum of voices told her the guests
were not yet gone. She removed her hat, and smoothed her hair
absently; her thoughts were down on Willow Lane busy with the complex
problem of the Perkins family. The windows were opened, and the sound
of swishing skirts and laughing voices came up to her from the garden
walk. A couple of well-dressed women were going out at the gate.

"Poor old things," cried one in a light merry voice. "They do get up
the most comical concoctions at their teas. And Miss Annabel in a
ten-year-old dress! Will she ever grow up?"

"The poor dears can't afford anything better. They are just struggling
along," answered her companion. "They had that house left them, and
the old lady gets her allowance, but the daughters hadn't a cent left
them, and they would both fall dead if they weren't invited to
everything. But I don't know where they get money to dress at all."

"I suppose that is why they took that girl to board."

"Of course, poor old Elinor is so scared--" The voice died away and a
sharp rap on her door took Helen from the window. She opened the door
and there, to her surprise, stood Miss Leslie Graham, looking very
handsome in the splendour of her rose silk gown. She smiled radiantly.
"Good day, Miss Murray. I think you know who I am and I think it's
time we met. I ran up here to get away from that jam of people. Those
women take such an lasting age to get away. May I sit with you for a
minute?"

Helen offered her a chair gladly. She had often seen Miss Graham, and
her unfailing gay spirits had made her wish she could know her. The
visitor flung her silver purse upon the bed, her gloves upon the table,
her white parasol upon the bureau, and sank into the chair.

"Oh I'm dead," she groaned