"All ready!" cried the latter. "She's coming down the street on this
side. Hurry up, Lizzie. Get your coat and hood on. Remember what you
are to say: father gone, mother sick. If she won't come in with a
little begging, make a big fuss, cry and plead for all you're worth.
There you are, all ready. Remember, you get a new coat if you bring
her in here."

The speaker opened the door and almost shoved the pale-faced,
trembling child out upon her strange mission.

* * * * *




CHAPTER XVIII.

HELEN IN THE MOUNTAINS.


It was snowing. The flakes that fell were not large fluffy ones; they
were small and compact, so that as the northwest wind drove them into
Helen's face, she realized that she was being pelted with something
more substantial than eiderdown.

The severity of the storm startled the girl. It spurred her to a
fuller consciousness of her obligation to her friends, that she remove
from their minds all occasion for worry as to her whereabouts as soon
as possible.