"You are Miss Thurston, aren't you?" she asked briskly as Bab came
forward to speak to her, wondering how on earth this newcomer knew her
name and what could be the reason for this unexpected call.

"Yes," Barbara returned in a puzzled tone, "I am Miss Thurston."

"Oh, don't be surprised at my knowing your name," Bab's latest caller
went on. "It is my business to know everybody. I met Mr. Dillon on the
corner. He told me Harriet Hamlin was not at home and that I had better
not come here this afternoon. I did not believe him; still I am not sorry
Miss Hamlin is out, I would ever so much rather see you. Harriet Hamlin
is dreadfully proud, and she is not a bit sympathetic. Do you think so?"

Bab was lost in wonder. What on earth could this talkative young woman
wish of her? Did her visitor believe Bab would confide her opinion of
Harriet to a complete stranger? But the young woman did not wait for
an answer.

"I want to see you about something awfully important," she went on.
"Please promise me you will do what I ask you before I tell you
what it is."

Bab laughed. "Don't ask me that. Why you may be an anarchist, for
all I know."

The new girl shook her head, smiling. She looked less tired now. She was
pretty and fragile, with fair hair and blue eyes. She was very pale and
was rather shabbily and carelessly dressed.