he would laugh and say that of course it would come up.

One day, when Zora was helping Miss Smith in the bedroom, she paused
with her arms full of clothes fresh from the laundry.

"Where shall I put these?"

Miss Smith looked around. "They might go in there," she said, pointing
to a door. Zora opened it. A tiny bedroom was disclosed, with one broad
window looking toward the swamp; white curtains adorned it, and white
hangings draped the plain bureau and wash-stand and the little bed.
There was a study table, and a small bookshelf holding a few books, all
simple and clean. Zora paused uncertainly, and surveyed the room.

"Sometimes when you're tired and want to be alone you can come up here,
Zora," said Miss Smith carelessly. "No one uses this room."

Zora caught her breath sharply, but said nothing. The next day Miss
Smith said to her when she came in:

"I'm busy now, dear, but you go up to your little room and read and I'll
call."

Zora quietly obeyed. An hour later Miss Smith looked in, then she closed
the door lightly and left. Another hour flew by before Zora hurried
down.

"I was reading, and I forgot," she said.

"It's all right," returned Miss Smith. "I didn't need you. And any day,