; then she, too, took her
departure.

For some moments she certainly was troubled by the direct warning of a
man like Dirty O'Brien. With all the many criminal attainments of the
other citizens of Rocky Springs, she knew him to be the shrewdest man
in the place. A warning from him was more than significant. What
should she do? Tell her sister? Certainly she would do that, but she
felt it to be well-nigh useless. Kate was the gentlest soul in the
world. She was the essence of kindliness, of sympathy, of loyalty to
her friends, but she was determined to a degree. She saw always with
her own eyes, and would go the way she saw.

Had she not warned her herself before? Had she not endeavored to
persuade her a dozen times? It was all quite useless. Kate was
something of an enigma, a contradiction. For all her gentleness Helen
knew she could be as hard as iron.

Finally, with a sigh, she dismissed the matter from her mind until
such time as opportunity served. Meanwhile she must put in an
appearance at Mrs. John Day's house. Mrs. John Day was the social
pivot of Rocky Springs, and, to disobey her summons, Helen knew would
be to risk a displeasure which would find reflection in every woman in
the place.

That was a catastrophe she had no desire to face. It was enough for
her to remember that she had imprisoned herself in such a place. She
had no desire to earn the ill-will of the wardresses.

She laughed to herself. But she really felt that it was very dreadful
that her life must be passed among these people. She wanted to be
free--to live all these good years of her life. She wanted to attend
parties, and--and dances among those people amid whom she had been
brought up. She craved for the society of cultured folks--of men. Yes,
she admitted it, she wanted all those things which make a young girl's
life enjoyable--theatres, dances, skating, hockey and--and, yes,
flirtations. Instead of those things what had she--what was she? That
was it. What was she? She had been planted in the furrows of life a
decorative flower, and some terrible botanical disaster had brought
her up a--cabbage.

She laughed outright, and in the midst of her laugh, looking out
across the valley, she beheld her sister leaving the Meeting House,
which stood almost in the shadow of the great pine, far up on the
distant slope.

Her laugh sobered. Her thoughts passed from herself to Kate with a
feeling which was almost resentment. Her high-spirited,
ad