ertain persons suggest certain
colors! Now Polly is often pale as a ghost, and yet red always makes
me recall her."

A few moments afterwards and Betty moved toward the front window and
stood there staring out into the street, too deep in thought to be
actually conscious of what she was doing.

She had changed in the past six months of struggle with poverty and
work beyond her strength. There were shadows under her gray eyes and
worried lines about the corners of her mouth. Instead of being slim as
formerly, she was undeniably so thin that even the folds of her
delicate crepe dress could not wholly disguise it.

It was not that Mrs. Ashton and Betty had spent this lonely day in
their old home, because their former friends had neglected them.
Indeed, they had had invitations to Thanksgiving dinners from half a
dozen sources. But Mrs. Ashton had not been well in several months and
was today too ill for her daughter to leave her. The two women were
now entirely alone in the house. One by one their boarders had
deserted them, and the previous week they had even felt compelled to
give up the old cook, who had been in the service of the Ashton family
for twenty years.

At first Betty saw nothing to attract her attention in the street
outside--not a single passer-by. It was odd how quiet and cold the
world seemed with her mother asleep in one of the far-away rooms
upstairs and other persons evidently too much interested in indoor
amusements to care for wandering through the dull town.

In another instant, however, the girl's attention was caught by the
appearance of a figure which seemed to spring up suddenly out of
nowhere and to stand gazing intently toward the Ashton house. It was
almost dark, and yet Betty could distinguish a young man, roughly
dressed, wearing no overcoat, with his coat collar turned up and a cap
pulled down over his eyes. Without being frightened, she was curious
and interested. Why should the man behave so queerly? He now walked
past the house and then turned and came back, not once but several
times. Evidently he had not observed the girl at the window. At last
however he gave up, and Betty believed that she saw him disappear
behind the closed cottage of the O'Neills. No longer entertained, she
prepared to leave the drawing room. It was too chilly to remain there
any longer. Moreover, studying the familiar objects she had loved so
long only made the thought of their surrender more