n
watching me downstairs, and Sally Grower, I'd have had a drink before
this. It ain't any use, I've got so I can't live without it--I don't
want to live."

And then remorse, self-reproach, despair,--almost as terrible to
contemplate. She swore she would never see Mr. Bentley again, she
couldn't face him.

Yet they persisted, and gained ground. She did see Mr. Bentley, but what
he said to her, or she to him, will never be known. She didn't speak of
it . . . .

Little by little her interest was aroused, her pride in her work
stimulated. None was more surprised than Hodder when Sally Grower
informed him that the embroidery was really good; but it was thought
best, for psychological reasons, to discard the old table-cover with its
associations and begin a new one. On occasional evenings she brought her
sewing over to Mr. Bentley's, while Sally read aloud to him and the young
women in the library. Miss Grower's taste in fiction was romantic; her
voice (save in the love passages, when she forgot herself ) sing-song,
but new and unsuspected realms were opened up for Kate Marcy, who would
drop her work and gaze wide-eyed out of the window, into the darkness.

And it was Sally who must be given credit for the great experiment,
although she took Mr. Bentley and Hodder into her confidence. On it they
staked all. The day came, at last, when the new table-cover was
finished. Miss Grower took it to the Woman's Exchange, actually sold it,
and brought back the money and handed it to her with a smile, and left
her alone.

An hour passed. At the end of it Kate Marcy came out of her room,
crossed the street, and knocked at the door of Mr. Bentley's library.
Hodder happened to be there.

"Come in," Mr. Bentley said.

She entered, breathless, pale. Her eyes, which had already lost much of
the dissipated look, were alight with exaltation. Her face bore evidence
of the severity of the hour of conflict, and she was perilously near to
tears. She handed Mr. Bentley the money.

"What's this, Kate?" he asked, in his kindly way.

"It's what I earned, sir," she faltered. "Miss Grower sold the
table-cover. I thought maybe you'd put it aside for me, like you do for
the others.

"I'll take good care of it," he said.

"Oh, sir, I don't ever expect to repay you, and Miss Grower and Mr.
Hodder!

"Why, you are repaying us," he replied, cutting her short, "you are
making us all very happy. And Sally tells me at the Exchange they like
your