And now to be so dependent—so helpless—so poor!'
'Have you nothing at all?' asked Lady Davenant, with simplicity.
'Only enough to pay for my clothes.'
'That's a good deal, for a girl. You are uncommonly dressy, you know.'
'I'm sorry I seem so. That's just the way I don't want to look.'
'You Americans can't help it; you "wear" your very features and your eyes look as if they had just been sent home. But I confess you are not so smart as Selina.'
'Yes, isn't she splendid?' Laura exclaimed, with proud inconsequence. 'And the worse she is the better she looks.'
'Oh my child, if the bad women looked as bad as they are———! It's only the good ones who can afford that,' the old lady murmured.
'It was the last thing I ever thought of—that I should be ashamed,' said Laura.
'Oh, keep your shame till you have more to do with it. It's like lending your umbrella—when you have only one.'
'If anything were to happen—publicly—I should die, I should die!' the girl exclaimed passionately and with a motion that carried her to her feet. This time she settled herself for departure. Lady Davenant's admonition rather frightened than sustained her.
The old woman leaned back in her chair, looking up at her. 'It would be very bad, I daresay. But it wouldn't prevent me from taking you in.'
Laura Wing returned her look, with eyes slightly
