mother's side, and had arrived only that afternoon on a visit.

"Bless us," said Madame Bernard; "how pretty we are! Isabel, you're a
credit to the establishment."

Isabel smiled--a little, cool smile. She was almost as tall as Rose and
towered far above the little lady in grey who offered her a welcoming
hand and invited her to sit by the fire. Isabel's gown was turquoise
blue and very becoming, as her hair and eyes were dark and her skin was
fair. Her eyes were almost black and very brilliant; they literally
sparkled when she allowed herself to become interested in anything.

"I'm not late, am I?" she asked.

"No," answered Rose, glancing at the clock. "It's ten minutes to seven."

"I couldn't find my things. It was like dressing in a dream, when, as
soon as you find something you want, you immediately lose everything
else."

"I know," laughed Rose. "I had occasion to pack a suit-case myself last
night, during my troubled slumbers."

A large yellow cat appeared mysteriously out of the shadows and came,
yawning, toward the fire. He sat down on the edge of Madame's grey gown,
and blinked.

Isabel drew her skirts away. "I don't like cats," she said.

"There are cats and cats," remarked Madame Bernard in a tone of gentle