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Harriet was deeply moved Too much that Tillie poured out to her found an

echo in her own breast What was this thing she was striving for but a

substitute for the real things of life--love and tenderness, children, a

horay carpet on the floor,

the pink chairs, the shaded la-house She looeous, a woo to Mrs Rosenfeld? She's your aunt, isn't she?"

"She thinks any wowhat you'd do if it happened to you Suppose you had no

people that cared anything about you, nobody to disgrace, and all your life

nobody had really cared anything about you And then a chance like this

ca What would you do?"

"I don't know," said poor Harriet "It seems to me--I'm afraid I'd be

teht to be happy, even if--"

Her oords frightened her It was as if some hidden self, and not she,

had spoken She hastened to point out the other side of the race Like K, she insisted that no right can be

built out of a wrong Tillie sat and sloves At last, when

Harriet paused in sheer panic, the girl rose