Meade L. T. - A Sister of the Red Cross: A Tale of the South African War стр 24.

"I think you will find the money," she said, with a smile.

And Katherine Hepworth, with despair written on her face, ran downstairs.

"I have no chance if I do not get the dress," she said to herself. "I wonder if Mollie would help me. What is to be done?"

She was too impatient and perturbed to wait for Mrs. Keith. She went out into the street. A hansom was slowly passing. She raised her en-tout-cas to stop the driver. The man drew up to the pavement. The girl got into the hansom. As she did so her foot kicked against something hard. She gave the man the direction of a gay shop in Sloane Street. She intended to buy gloves and a fresh ribbon for her fan there. The man whipped up his horse, and she stooped to see what the hard object was. It was a purse made of Russian leather. She opened it, and saw, to her wonder and delight, that it contained bank notes and gold. Tremblingly she laid it on the seat by her side. But it seemed to sting her as it lay so close and yet so far. She could not get away from the fascination of it. There were a great terror and a great sense of relief all over her.

"What does this mean?" she said to herself. "Oh, of course I ought to give it to the driver, and tell him that somebody has left it here. But why should I? I wonder how much is in it?"

She took it up, and saw further, to her astonishment, that there were letters printed in silver on the outside. The letters might have stood for her own name "K.H."

"More and more marvellous!" thought the girl.

She opened the purse now, and tumbled the contents into her lap. Altogether there was over a hundred pounds within about twenty-nine pounds in gold, the rest in notes. Notes are dangerous things to deal with when one wants to be a thief. But Kitty did not think of anything so dreadful as the word "thief" just now. With a hundred pounds she could appease Madame Dupuys; she could get her dress in time for the ball she could see a way out of her difficulties. Not yet did her conscience prick her; not for an instant did she feel remorse. She would do it. Was it Providence that had put this purse in her way, or was it She did not wait even to think out the remainder of the sentence. She poked her parasol through the roof of the hansom.

"I want you to go back to 340 Bond Street," she said to the man.

He turned his hansom at once. When they reached the house, Kitty got out, rang the bell, and asked to see Madame Dupuys. The girl who opened the door to her brought her upstairs at once, and in two minutes' time she was in madame's presence.

"Here," said the girl, panting as she spoke, "if I give you a hundred pounds now, will you give me a week or ten days longer to pay the remainder?"

"I will give you six weeks exactly, Miss Hepworth," replied the dressmaker.

"Six weeks!" gasped Kitty. It seemed like a lifetime. She might be married by then. Who knew what might take place long before six weeks were out? "Yes, yes, that is all right," she said.

She took the little purse out of her pocket; it bore her own initials. Madame was not for a single moment surprised at seeing it. Kitty tumbled the contents on the table.

"There," she said again. "There are one hundred pounds. Count them."

The dressmaker bent over the notes and gold. She counted hastily.

"One hundred pounds and five shillings," she said.

She pushed the five shillings back to Kitty.

"No; keep it as a present," said the girl restlessly.

"Certainly not, miss," replied madame, with dignity.

She made out a receipt for Kitty and handed it to her. Kitty picked up the empty purse and left the room.

When she was gone, madame was about to put the notes and gold into a safe place in her writing table, when she was attracted by a little piece of paper which had fallen on the floor. She took it up, and opened it without having any special reason for doing so. The piece of paper contained nothing but an address: "Katherine Hunt, 24 Child's Gardens, Bayswater."

"Miss Hunt!" thought madame. "How queer! Why, she is one of my customers." For a moment she thought she would tear up the little piece of paper, but on second thoughts she put it into her drawer with the notes and gold. "The next time Miss Hunt comes I must ask her if she knows Miss Hepworth," thought the good woman. "Well, I am glad Miss Hepworth has paid me even that much. And of course, poor little lady, she shall have her dress, and made as nicely as I can make it."

CHAPTER IX. KATHERINE HUNT

"I have come to order a dress," said Miss Hunt. "I want it to be pretty as pretty as possible. I have, just at the eleventh hour, had an invitation to

go to the great fancy ball at Goring. I am determined to go; the ball is the event of the season, and I would not miss it for the world. I have been all morning going from place to place, and have just time to visit you. What can you give me? Money no object. I shall require the very prettiest dress you can conceive and execute, that is all."

Miss Hunt dropped into a seat as she spoke. She had a taking way and a bright manner. She was one of madame's very best customers. Not only was she extravagant, but she was open-handed. She was a very rich girl the daughter of a millionaire. She always paid ready cash for her clothes. Had Kitty come to demand a dress on such short notice, madame would have negatived the possibility immediately; but with Miss Hunt it was different. If madame could not supply Miss Hunt with a dress, the latter had it in her power to visit one of the most expensive shops in Bond Street, and get what she required at double the money. Money was little or no object to Miss Hunt. She tapped the floor lightly now with her parasol, and looked with expectant eyes at madame.