r you, Jinnie dear," breathed Bobbie,
touching her hand.

Jinnie's only response was to put her fingers on the child's head--her
eyes still on the cobbler.

"What did Peggy say, Lafe?"

"Nothin', only you couldn't go in the clothes you got."

Jinnie changed her position that she might see to better advantage the
plain little dress she was wearing.

"But I've got to go, Lafe; oh, I've got to!" she insisted. "Mr. King
wants me.... Please, Lafe, please!"

"Call Peggy, Bobbie," said Lafe, in answer to Jinnie's impetuous
speech.

Bobbie felt his way to the door, and Peggy came in answer to the
child's call.

"I only thought of the twenty-five dollars and the fiddling, Peggy,"
said Jinnie as Mrs. Grandoken rolled her hands in her apron and sat
down. "Did you say I couldn't go in these clothes?"

"I did; I sure did. You can't go in them clothes, an' what you're
goin' to wear is more'n I can make out. I'll have to think.... Just
let me alone for a little while."

It was after Jinnie had gone to bed with Bobbie that Peg spoke about
it again to Lafe.

"I've only got one thing I could rig her a dress out of," she said. "I
don't want to do it because I hate her so! If I hated her any worse,
I'd bust!"

The cobbler raised his hand, making a gesture of denial.

"Peggy, dear, you don't hate the poor little lass."

"Yes, I do," said Peg. "I hate everybody in the world but you....
Everybody but you, Lafe."

"What'd you think might make a dress for 'er?" asked Grandoken
presently.

Before answering, Peg brought her feet together and looked down at her
toes. "There's them lace curtains ma give me when she died," she said.
"Them that's wrapped up in paper on the shelf."

Lafe uttered a surprised ejaculation.

"I couldn't let you do that, Peg," he said, shaking his head. "Them's
the last left over from your mother's stuff. Everything else's
gone.... I couldn't let you, Peggy."

Mrs. Grandoken gave a shake of defiance.

"Whose curtains be they, Lafe?" she asked. "Be they mine or yourn?"

"Yourn, Peggy dear, and may God bless you!"

All through the night Jinnie had dreadful dreams. The thought of
either not going to Mr. King's or that she might not have anything fit
to wear filled the hours with nightmares and worryings. In the
morning, after she crawled out of bed and was wearily dressing Bobbie,
the little blind boy felt intuitively something was wrong with his
friend.

"Is Jinnie sick?" he whispered, feelin