"D---- your soul, where in hell have you been all this time, Catie?" the
manager screamed at her, angrily, without glancing at her, when she came
back at last.

Catriona looked more anxious and white than ever before. Her face was
stained with weeping. "I lost my purse," she said in a dazed, unsteady
voice. "It was gone when I opened my bag in the lunch-room. I've looked
for it everywhere."

There was a sudden breathless change in the air of the department. You
could have heard a pin drop.

"Better go down to the basement and wash your face," said the manager,
awkwardly, with unbelievable gentleness.

"Well," she continued suddenly, the minute Catriona was out of ear-shot,
"I'm not so poor but I can help to make _that_ up." She took a dollar
bill from her pocket-book. Every one contributed something, though
several girls went without their supper for this purpose, and one girl
walked home four miles after midnight. Altogether they could give nearly
ten dollars.

The manager sidled awkwardly toward Catriona, when she came back from
washing her face. "Here, kid," she muttered sheepishly, pushing the money
into the little girl's hand. Catriona, pale and dazed, looked up at
her--looked at the money, with a shy excitement and happiness dawning in
her eyes. Then she cried again with excitement and joy, and every one
laughed, and sent her off again to wash her face.

That night everything was different in the department. There had been a