But now the money suddenly seemed of more value than the pictures.

At home in a little jewel case locked into her bureau drawer were five twenty-dollar gold pieces she had been saving for a long time to purchase an evening cloak. She longed for a really fine one with a handsome fur collar and satin lining. She was going to pick it out the very next week, when aunt had leisure to go with her and help select it. Suddenly that evening cloak rose and mocked her. Could she wear a festive evening cloak with white fox collar when her own father and brothers had no blankets on their beds?

It is true that they ought to be able to purchase their own blankets, probably were, and would very likely refund any money she would spend on putting the house to rights; at the same time, she must realize that, if she took the responsibility of ordering things without consulting them, she must be ready to pay for them in case they did not approve. There was, moreover, a misgiving about her father’s ability to pay for things. What if he had lost his position? What if he had reached a point where he did not care about things? All these things were quite possible when she thought of the state the house had been allowed to get into. Of course she was not responsible, and no one could hold her to blame for the way things had gone; and yet she simply could not go and buy that evening cloak, and know that those beds were in that condition.

She was a girl accustomed to think rapidly and come to quick decisions; and now, as she descended the stairs to the hall, she made her plans.

She washed her hands, locked the door, and went down the street in the direction of the stores. The sight of a black woman coming toward her gave her another idea. When the woman came near, she stopped her with a question.

“Can you tell me where I can get a couple of women to work for me this afternoon?”

The woman paused, and eyed her reflectively from faultless shoe to dainty hat. Then she shifted to the other hip a bundle of soiled linen which she carried, and replied tentatively: “Yes’m, I reckon my daughter ’n’ I might. Where to?”

Elsie indicated the house.

There was a surprised rolling of the whites of the old woman’s eyes as she swept a quick, comprehensive glance at the house and then back over the girl from top to toe again.

“That’s Mister Hathaway’s house?” she said with an upward suspicious inflection.

“Yes,” said the girl with dignity.

“What all you want done?”

“Oh, cleaning and putting to rights—”

The woman looked her over with a meaningful grunt, growing comprehension in her eyes. Finally she agreed to come and bring her daughter at half past two.

Elsie was hastening on her way when the woman called after her.

“Say, aren’t you Elsie Hathaway? ’Cause I worked for your mother once. She was a mighty nice lady, Mis’ Hathaway.”

Something warm and disturbing sprang up in the girl’s heart and made her smile an assent at the old woman as she hurried on her way again. She seemed to have dropped back years and to be made suddenly aware of the personality of her own dear mother. For a little her life in the city at her aunt’s and at the school fell away from her, and she became a child again, interested in this spot that her mother had left. The symphony concert was entirely forgotten now. She had but one object to attain, and that was to put that dreary house into some sort of homelike state before its inhabitants should return. To that end she sought a telephone booth and called up a friend of her aunt’s in a large department store.

“Mr. Belknap,” she said, “I don’t want to make you any trouble, but I’m having a rather strenuous day, and I can’t carry out my plans without some help. I’m out at my father’s in Morningside, putting the house in order; and I find that a number of things need replenishing since my last visit. Father isn’t here, and I haven’t much money with me. I’m wondering if you can manage it for me that they can be sent out special and let me pay on Monday? I could send the money to you as soon as I get home this evening.”

“Sure!” came the hearty response. “I can fix that up for you, Miss Elsie. You want the things out this afternoon before you leave? I see. Well, I’ll have them run out for you. Just tell me what you want. Blankets, sheets, pillowcases, bedspreads, towels, tablecloths, napkins. Well, now suppose I just look up what we have and report to you in fifteen minutes, say. How will that do? You give me the number of your phone, and I’ll let you know styles and prices.