hip because he'll do all the
talking himself."

Ann grew thoughtful. She seemed to have turned back to something. Katie
would have given much to know what it was Ann's deep brown eyes were
surveying so somberly.

"The strange part of it is," she said, "I used to dream of some
such place."

"Of course you did. That's why you belong there. A great deal more than
some of us who've tramped miles through galleries." Then swiftly Katie
changed her position, her expression and the conversation. "Elizabeth
Barrett Browning is your favorite poet, isn't she, Ann?"

"Why--why no," stammered Ann. "I'm afraid I haven't any favorite.
You see--"

"So much the better. Then you can take Elizabeth without being untrue to
any one else. She loved Florence. You know she's buried there. I think
you used to make pilgrimages to her tomb."

Again Ann turned back, and at what she saw smiled a little, half
bitterly, half wistfully. "I'd like to have made pilgrimages somewhere."

"To be sure you would. That's why you did. The things we would like to
have done, and would have done if we could, are lots more part of us than
just the things we did do because we had to do them. Just consider that
all those things you'd like to have done are things you did. It will make
you feel at home with yourself. And to-morrow we'll go over the river and
order Elizabeth Barrett Browning and a tailored suit."

But with that the girl who would like to have done things receded,
leaving baldly exposed the girl who had done the things she had had to
do. "No," said Ann stubbornly and sullenly.

"But blue gingham morning dress and rose-colored evening dress are
scarcely sufficient unto one's needs," murmured Kate.

Ann turned away her head. "I can't take things--not things like that."

"But why not?" pursued Kate. "Why can't you take as well as I can take?"

She turned upon her hotly, as if resentful of being toyed with. "How
silly! It is yours."

Katie had said it at random, but once expressed it interested her.
"Why I don't know whether it is or not," she said, suddenly more
interested in the idea itself than in its effect upon Ann. "Why is it?
I didn't earn it."

"There's no use talking _that_ way. It's yours because you've got it."
That not seeming to bring ethical satisfaction she added: "It's yours
because your family earned it."

Katie was unfastening the muslin gown. "But as a matter of
fact,"--getting more and more interested--"they didn't. Th