amuse her. They rode up and down with her
in the elevator. They gave her a peep into the hotel's splendid reception
rooms. Poor little Eunice was in a daze! She wandered about like a child
in a dream. Every now and then she would ask Mollie some question in
regard to Reginald Latham's airship. She had not forgotten it.

Miss Stuart wisely had luncheon served in the private sitting-room. She
did not think it best for Eunice to be seen by so many people; besides,
she did not know how Eunice would behave at the table.

To Miss Sallie's unspeakable relief the child had learned at the hospital
to eat with a knife and fork. Her manners were those of a frightened
child. She was neither noisy nor vulgar.

"The child is certainly an enigma!" Miss Stuart said to herself, half a
dozen times during the morning. "What the doctor says is true! The child
is almost refined. It is marvelous! In spite of her ignorance, she does
nothing to offend one!"

After luncheon, Miss Stuart noticed that Eunice looked white and
exhausted. The scarlet color had faded from her cheeks and lips. The
little girl was not strong enough for so much excitement after her recent
illness.

"Mollie," Miss Sallie suggested, about half-past two o'clock, "take
Eunice to your room. Give her a dressing gown, and see that she rests for
an hour or so. You may stay with the child, Mollie, for fear she may be
frightened, but you other girls keep away. The child is worn out. Mollie,
you may bring her back to us at tea-time."

Mollie agreed. She guessed that Miss Sallie was furthering her idea about
the experiment.

"Remember, Bab, you have promised me to be here at tea-time," Mollie
reminded her sister.

"Certainly, I shall be here, Mollie. Did you think I was going away?"

Mollie then took Eunice away to lie down.

The child was so tired she soon fell asleep on Mollie's bed.

Mollie sat thinking quietly by the darkened window. She had taken a deep
fancy to little Eunice, who had seemed to cling to her since their first
strange meeting.

Barbara and Mollie Thurston were both unusually thoughtful girls. Their
mother's devoted companions for years, their poverty had made them
understand more of life. Mollie realized it would not do for Eunice to
grow up ignorant and wild, with only her old grandmother for a companion.
The little Indian was already thirsting for a different life. And, some
day, the grandmother would die. What would then become of Eunice?

A