dearies, there must be a change. You must go out. You must take your
place in society. I will not have you waste your young lives."

"Mother!" Margaret was on her feet, and Katherine had dropped her work.
"Mother!" they cried again.

"I--I shan't even listen," faltered Margaret. "I shall go and leave you
right away," she finished tremulously, picking up the tray and hurrying
from the room.

It was hours later, after the little woman had trailed once more along
the Axminster path to the bed in the room beyond and had dropped asleep,
that Margaret Whitmore faced her sister with despairing eyes.

"Katherine, what shall we do? This thing is killing me!"

The elder girl's lips tightened. For an instant she paused in her work--
but for only an instant.

"I know," she said feverishly; "but we mustn't give up--we mustn't!"

"But how can we help it? It grows worse and worse. She wants us to go
out--to sing, dance, and make merry as we used to."

"Then we'll go out and--tell her we dance."

"But there's the work."

"We'll take it with us. We can't both leave at once, of course, but old
Mrs. Austin, downstairs, will be glad to have one or the other of us sit