brink of humiliation. She had never begged before, and she registered an
inward vow never to beg again.

"You don't know _me_ from Adam," she blurted out, at her bluntest and
crudest, "but you must know my aunt, Mrs. Rhodes. I have heard her speak
of you very often. She met you at St. Augustine, last winter."

"Mrs. Rhodes?" the other repeated, doubtfully. She made her eyebrows take
their part in an inquiring glance, and bestowed the result upon her
caller.

"Yes," insisted Jane; "Mrs. A. L. Rhodes. She lives on Michigan--near
Thirtieth."

"Mrs. Rhodes?"--again thoughtfully repeated. She seemed to move her head
in doubt. "I _do_ go to Florida every winter, and sometimes, on the way
to our place, I stop for a day or two at St. Augustine--yes."

She looked at Jane again, as if to say, "That is really the best I can do
for you."

"She played backgammon with you there," Jane still persisted--"on the
hotel veranda. I've heard her say so twenty times."

Mrs. Bates did not change her expression. "Backgammon? Yes, I am very
fond of backgammon; I play it a great deal. Mr. Bates keeps a board in
the car especially for me. I'm always glad to meet anybody who cares to
play; and it's pleasant, I'm sure, to be on easy terms with one's
fellow-travellers."