"No little friends? How's that?"

"Bimba died," she announced casually. "She liked books, too. It's
vewy silly thinking dolls are babies, isn't it; that's why I love
weading, it--it seems weal!"

Lady Hetth broke in hurriedly.

"We simply can't keep her away from books when she's in town. Of
course when we are in the country she simply lives out of doors. It is
very difficult to keep her amused. She sulks when she goes to a party
and always wants to go home!"

"I don't sulk weally, Auntie, I jus'--jus' don' seem to know how to
play!"

She smiled a wan little smile at the woman who had no children of her
own, and moved away slowly with a backward doggy look at the man.

"Good God!" he muttered. "Will you come here, Lady Hetth!"




CHAPTER II

"When your fear cometh as a desolation."--_The Bible_.