licity that left no
room for any trace of careless youth or girlishness. Slender and
rather delicate-looking, she had brown eyes, regular features, and
soft, light-brown hair waving loosely about her face and hanging in two
long, demure curls from a shell clasp at her neck. But her eyes were
of rather a shallow brown, her brows and lashes still lighter; her
features were almost too regular, and her skin, though soft and clear,
was quite colorless. Even so, she might have been pretty, perhaps
lovely, had she possessed any animation. But the girl's face and even
her eyes were as nearly expressionless as human features may be. She
was like a superior sort of doll with white cheeks in lieu of red.

After a little she opened a small leather satchel, took out a letter,
and perused it attentively. It was the last she had received from her
guardian and only living relative, Cousin Julia Pritchard, and, as she
was to see her soon, it behooved her to prepare herself so far as she
might for that occasion. For Elsie Marley realized, though dimly, that
she was to encounter a personality unlike any with which she had come
in contact in all her sheltered, luxurious life.

"My dear Elsie," the letter ran, "I find myself very much pleased at
the thought of having you with me. The heart of a woman of fifty
cannot but rejoice in anticipation of the company of a young girl with
the ideals, the vigor, and buoyancy of sixteen. And since we are both
alone in the world, you representing all my kith and kin as I believe
myself to represent all yours, it is only fitting that we should be
together instead of being separated by the breadth of our great
American continent.

"You will, I am sure, like this great, busy, restless, humming city,
though the only home I have to offer you, I am truly sorry to say, is
in a boarding-house, comfortable though it is. Remembering Aunt
Ellen's beautiful home in California, which I visited fifteen years
ago, I fear the change may be difficult, though, for a young person,
not too painfully so, I trust. A boarding-house is the only home I
have myself known for thirty years, and this particular one is
excellent and full of interesting people, though the youngest among
them are middle-aged.

"I am, I repeat, happy to say that I can give you a home here and
clothe you suitably. That will release your income, which can be put
to any use which we may decide upon after consultation together. Your
lawye