and
on it a lamp, a work-basket, and several magazines with backs half
gone. The floor was bare save for a small and worn rug here and there,
and on the sills of the uncurtained windows two hardy geraniums were
blooming bravely. A chest of drawers, a few chairs, a shelf of books,
a rug-covered cot, a corner cupboard, a wash-stand behind a screen,
and a small table near the stove, behind which a box of wood could be
seen, completed its furnishings; and still, despite its bareness,
there was something in it which was not in the place wherein he lived,
and wonderingly he again looked around. Had he found himself in the
moon or at the bottom of the Dead Sea it would be hardly less
remarkable than finding himself here. Adventures of this sort were
entirely out of his experience. As regulated as a piece of machinery
his life had become of late, and the routine of office and club and
house had been accepted as beyond escape, and the chance meeting of
this little creature--

"Oh, my goodness! I forgot to put the kettle on!"

With a spring that came apparently from the door opposite the stove
near which he was standing Carmencita was by his side, and, swift
movement following swift movement, the lid of the stove was lifted,
wood put in, the kettle of water put on, and the table drawn farther
out in the floor. A moment more the lamp was lighted, her father's
coat and hat in place, his chair drawn up to the now roaring fire;
then, with speculation in her eyes, she stood for half a moment, hands
on hips, looking first at Van Landing and then at the cupboard in the
corner.

For the first time he saw well the slender little body out of its
long, loose coat, the heavy, brown curls which tumbled over the oval
face, the clear eyes that little escaped, so keen was their quality,
and the thin legs with their small feet in large shoes, and as he
looked he smiled.

"Well," he asked, "can I help you? You seem very uncertain."

"I am. Put your hat and coat over there"--she pointed to the covered
cot close to the wall--"then come back and tell me."

He did as directed and, hands in pockets, stood again in front of her.
"Is"--his face whitened--"is it about Miss Barbour? Can you send her
word?"

"Send now? I guess not!" On tiptoes the child looked for something on
the mantel-piece. "We haven't had supper yet, and I'm so hungry I
could eat air. Besides, she has a class to-night--The Little Big
Sisters. I'm one when I can go, but I can