strength came slowly back to her she was too weak to rebel against
the order that she was to pass the remainder of her days at the Doane
home. Even there she tried to keep her feeling of self-respect and
independence by doing the work that was not given the other women,
who "paid their way." The Director and his wife, busy, annoyed by a
thousand petty details, were not consciously unkind, but they found
it easy to shift a few of their burdens to the shoulders that always
seemed able to carry a little heavier load; consequently the willing
hands were always occupied, the wearied feet often made many steps on
errands that should have been relegated to one of few years.

Drusilla, sitting before the fire, saw all these bitter years pass
like shadows before her half-closed eyes; she saw the years of toil
without the reward that is woman's right--the love of children,
husband, a home to call her own. And yet those years had left no scar
upon her soul, no rancor against the world that had taken all and
given nothing except the right to live.

A log dropped into the fire and Drusilla awakened from her revery
with a start. Her eyes felt heavy and she rose to go to the bedroom;
then remembered that she was told to ring when she wished to go to
bed. She rang the bell and the maid came into the room.

"Madame desires to retire?"

Drusilla looked at her inquiringly.

"What did Miss Thornton say your name was?"

"Jeanne, Madame."