Grace felt a queer little shiver creep up and down her spine. The
resemblance between the stranger and Mabel Allison was even more
remarkable to-day.

"How do you do, my dears," said the woman with a sweet smile,
extending her hand in turn to the three girls. "Under the
circumstances I am sure you will pardon me for not rising."

Her voice was clear and well modulated.

"Please don't think of it," cried Grace. "We saw the accident
yesterday. We were afraid you were seriously injured, and we
couldn't resist coming to see you. I am Grace Harlowe, and these
are my friends Nora O'Malley and Anne Pierson."

"I am very pleased to know you," responded the stranger. "It is so
sweet to know that you thought of me."

"Miss Harlowe was the first to reach you, after your accident,"
said Anne, knowing that Grace herself would avoid mentioning it.
"She held your head in her lap until the doctor came."

"Then I am deeply indebted to you," returned the patient, again
taking Grace's hand in hers, "and I hope to know you better. I
dearly love young girls."

She motioned them to a broad settee near her chair.

"There!" she exclaimed. "Now I can look at all of you at the same