care. Standard works of all sorts and in three languages were to be
found on certain bookshelves, also modern works, both poetry and prose,
with some of the best novels of the day.

Bessie Challoner never envied rich people. She cared nothing whatever
for fine dresses, nor for carriages and horses, nor for the luxurious
life of the wealthy, but she did envy Gwin Harley the use of her
father's library; and when she entered the room now, with that delicious
faint smell of leather which all libraries possess, she sniffed first
with ecstasy, and then climbing on the ladder secured the volume of the
"Encyclopaedia" which she required, and seating herself at one of the
center tables, was soon lost in the fascinations of her subject. After a
time a little cough, very gentle, however, caused her to raise her head,
and there standing before her was Kitty Malone.

Kitty's long arms had dropped to her sides, and she had pushed back her
masses of dark hair. There was a pathetic expression about her rosy
lips, and tears trembled on her long eyelashes.

"Why, what is it, Kitty; what do you want?" asked Bessie.

"Ah, then it's good to hear you say that word, aroon," said Kitty. "I
want to sit near you. I won't speak, no, not a syllable. Hush will be
the only word with me, hush! hush! hush! You can go on with your beloved
reading and I'll stay near you; that's all I require. Why, then, it's
just a shelter I need, and nothing more. Read away, Bessie, my honey,
and I'll do nothing to interrupt you."

"But why have you left the others?" asked Bessie.