disgraced, forever--take me home to Pris, oh, take me home to Pris!"

"I will, my dear, I will; but first let me right you up a bit; you
look as if you had been hazed, upon my life you do;" and Jack laughed
in spite of himself at the wretched little object before him, for
dust, dancing, and the downfall produced a ruinous spectacle.

That broke Kitty's heart; and, spreading her hands before her face,
she was about to cry again, when the sad sight which met her eyes
dispelled the gathering tears. The new gloves were both split up the
middle and very dirty with clutching at the steps as she went down.

"Never mind, you can wash them," said Jack, soothingly.

"I paid a dollar and a half for them, and they can't be washed,"
groaned Kitty.

"Oh, hang the gloves! I meant your hands," cried Jack, trying to keep
sober.

"No matter for my hands, I mourn my gloves. But I won't cry any more,
for my head aches now so I can hardly see." And Kitty threw off her
bonnet, as if even that airy trifle hurt her.

Seeing how pale she looked, Jack tenderly suggested a rest on the old
sofa, and a wet handkerchief on her hot forehead, while he got the
good landlady to send her up a cup of tea. As Kitty rose to comply
she glanced at her dress, and, clasping her hands, exclaimed,
tragically,--"The facing, the fatal facing! That made all the
mischief, for if I'd sewed it last night it wouldn't have ripped