ply. She wished Kathleen a thousand miles off.

The newspaper girl scrutinized narrowly her companion's lovely set face.
Trained in the study of human nature she had learned to know the outward
signs of a perturbed spirit. Her straight brows knit in a puzzled frown.
Then, noting that Evelyn had colored hotly under the shrewd fixity of
her sharp eyes, she glanced carelessly away.

Neither girl spoke for a little. Evelyn was wondering distractedly how
she could escape from Kathleen, when they reached New York, without
arousing suspicion on the part of the newspaper girl. Kathleen, whose
intuition as well as her eyes told her that all was not well with
Evelyn, racked her brain for the words which would tear down the wall of
stony reticence which this strange girl had built about herself. Try as
she might she could think of no effectual way to begin. Deciding to bide
her time she tried to rouse Evelyn's too-apparently flagging spirits by
a crisp account of a big newspaper story which she had run to earth
during her Easter vacation. At first she met with small success, but as
she talked on Evelyn grew interested in spite of herself and began
asking half timid, half eager questions about New York. Was it hard to
get work there? Could a girl live on six or seven dollars a week in a
large city? How did these girls go about it to find positions? In what
section of the city did most of the working girls, who had no homes,
live?

Kathleen answered her questions imperturbably, telling of her own
experience in New York as a beginner of newspaper work. Later Evelyn
plied her with countless questions regarding the stage, its advantages
and disadvantages. The throb of anxiety in her voice was stronger than
her elaborate pretense of indifference. Figuratively, Kathleen pricked
up her ears. It was only when they had exhausted the subjects of the
working girl and the stage that she launched at Evelyn the seemingly
innocent question, "Where are you going to stay in New York, Miss Ward?"

"I--why--" stammered Evelyn.

"Do you expect to be met at the station? It will be almost midnight when
we reach New York, you know."

"I know," muttered Evelyn. Averting her face from Kathleen she stared
out the window.

"It's now or never," decided Kathleen. Her strong supple fingers closed
suddenly over one of the limp white hands that lay so helplessly in
Evelyn's lap. "Miss Ward," she said in a low tense voice, "something
dreadful has happened