"Next thing on the program," she began, buoyantly raising the shades and
throwing the windows wide, "is air. You're a good patient, for you do as
you're told. It's been a fine sleep, hasn't it? And now I mean to get you
into some clothes and take you out for a drive."

The girl shrank down in the pillows, pulling the covers clear to her
chin, as if to shut herself in. She did not speak, but shook her head.

But Katie rode right over that look of pain and fear in her eyes,
refusing to emphasize it by recognition.

She left the room and returned after a moment with a white flannel suit
which she spread out on the bed. "This is not a bad looking suit, is it?
Your dress is scarcely warm enough for driving, so I want you to wear
this. I told Nora that your luggage was lost. It may be just as well for
you to know, from time to time, what I'm telling about you. I have an
idea this suit will be very becoming to you. It came from Paris. I
presume I'm rather foolish about things from Paris, but they always seem
to me to have brought a little life and gayety along. There's a dear
little white hat and stunning automobile veil goes with this suit. I can
scarcely wait to see how pretty you're going to look in it all."

For answer the girl turned to the wall, hid her face in the pillows,
and sobbed.

Kate laid a hand upon her hair--soft, fine brown hair with tempting
little waves and gleams in it. There came to her a hideous vision of
how that hair might have looked by this time had she not--by the
merest chance--