a keen thrill of pleasure because of
the condition which her occupancy of it represented. Somehow it seemed
years ago that she had walked around the hole in the ingrain carpet in
the bare room which looked out upon the heap of tin-cans and corrals of
the Terriberry House.

Through the door which opened into her bed-chamber she saw the floor
littered with boxes and papers, the new near-silk petticoat draping a
chair, the new near-tailored suit which represented the "last cry" from
the General Merchandise Store, the Parisian hat which the clairvoyant
milliner had seen in a trance and trimmed from memory, but the lines of
which suggested that the milliner's astral body had practised a
deception and projected itself no further than 14th Street.

A fresh realization of what these things meant, namely the personal
interest of some one who cared, brought a rush of tears to her eyes.
They were still moist when Mr. Richard Kincaid appeared in the parlor,
his eyes twinkling above a pillar of boxes and bundles which he carried
in his arms.

"What's the matter, Esther? What has happened?" He dropped the packages
and went to her side.

She threw her arms impulsively about his neck and laid her head upon his
breast while she said between little sobs of tears and laughter--

"I'm so happy! happy! _happy!_ Uncle Dick--that's all. And so grateful,
too. I love you so much that I want to cry, and so happy that I want to
laugh. So I do both. I didn't have to learn to love you. I did from the
first. It came with a rush just as soon as I found out who you
were--that we belonged to each other, you know. All at once I felt so
different--so safe--so sure of you, and so secure--and so proud to think
we were related. I can't explain exactly, but just being _me_, so
long--not knowing who I was or where I came from--and belonging to no
one at all--it seems a wonderful thing to have you!"

She turned her face to his shoulder and cried softly.

He patted her cheek and smiled--a smile that was of sadness and
understanding.

"I know what you mean, Esther; I comprehend your feelings perfectly.
It's the bond of kinship which you recognize, the tie of blood, and let
me tell you, girl, there never was a truer saying than the old one that
'blood is thicker than water.' Disguise it as you will, and bitter
family feuds would sometimes seem to give it the lie, but it's a fact
just the same. It takes time to find it out--a lifetime often--but deep
in