Hathaway's curtains hung straight to the floor, but Miss
Ainslie's were tied back with white cord.

The furniture was colonial mahogany, unspoiled by varnish, and
rubbed until it shone.

"You have a beautiful home," said Ruth, during a pause.

"Yes," she replied, "I like it."

"You have a great many beautiful things."

"Yes," she answered softly, "they were given to me by a--a
friend."

"She must have had a great many," observed Ruth, admiring one of
the rugs.

A delicate pink suffused Miss Ainslie's face. "My friend," she
said, with quiet dignity, "is a seafaring gentleman."

That explained the rugs, Ruth thought, and the vase, of finest
Cloisonne, which stood upon the mantel-shelf. It accounted also
for the bertha of Mechlin lace, which was fastened to Miss
Ainslie's gown, of lavender cashmere, by a large amethyst inlaid
with gold and surrounded by baroque pearls.

For some little time, they talked of Miss Hathaway and her
travels. "I told her she was too old to go," said Miss Ainslie,.
smiling, "but she assured me that she could take care of herself,