the light, could see nothing.

"Did Dr. Trenire bring one of his little girls with him, Reuben?"

"Yes'm."

"Do come in at once, child. Which is it? Kitty?"

"Yes," answered Kitty reluctantly.

"Then do come in. Whatever makes you stay out in the storm?" cried Lady
Kitson.

Kitty obediently, but most unwillingly, scrambled down from her seat.
Even from the carriage, and through the darkness, she could see how
charming and dainty Lady Kitson was looking. She had on a soft, flowing
gray silk gown, with white lace about her shoulders and arms, and her
beautiful golden hair gleamed brightly in the lamplight. Kitty, at
sight of her, suddenly realized with overwhelming shame that in her zeal
to drive her father and make her appeal, she had neither brushed her own
hair nor washed her hands, nor changed her old garden hat or morning
frock. She was, she knew, as disreputable-looking and untidy a daughter
as any father could feel ashamed of.

"How stupid of me--how stupid of me," she thought, full of vexation with
herself, "when I knew I was coming here, too."

There was nothing to be done, though, but to go in and live through this
ordeal as best she might. "Why do these things always happen to me?"
she groaned miserably. "If I had wanted very much to go in, and had had