"Yes, I am plain," she said aloud. "I must admit, in the solitude of my room, that I have not a good feature in my face. Kate is handsome; Kate has got all that beauty about her appearance which been denied to me. It will be an interesting problem to see who will make the best out of life—Kate, the pauper, the charity girl, or I, who have more money than I know what to do with, but who am not possessed of beauty, nor of any special talent. I believe I see my way now to having a good time at Redgarth. Of course Kate won't dare to be anything but my friend now, for if she does I shall hold this knowledge over her. Yes, I think I contrived cleverly. I did nothing wrong. Oh, of course not! I could not help overhearing what Cecil and Molly said, and when Cecil dropped the letter at my feet, I should have been more than human if I had not picked it up. After all, it would have been wicked to conceal this matter from Kate. Poor Kate! how wild she looked when she went out! Oh, yes, my beautiful Kate, I know how to sting you! For all your false humility you are about the proudest girl I know. You proud! what right have you to be proud? Oh, I shall love to humble you! You have got neither birth nor money. There are some tolerably poor people who are well born; I can respect them—they have ancestors. I'd give anything in all the world to have ancestors; but Kate has nothing—nothing but her face, and her slim figure, and something which people call talent, in the back of her head. All right, Kate! you shall eat humble pie now."

Matilda ran downstairs to the sitting room. Cecil was bending over a book. Molly was darning some holes in Maurice's stockings; she delighted in helping Cecil with this work. Mr. Danvers was standing by the window looking out at the street, and the four boys were occupying themselves in various ways in different parts of the room. After a time, Mr. Danvers turned slowly round and faced the other occupants of the room.

"That is a fine creature," he said; "whether boy or girl. I repeat that the creature is fine. I don't often pay compliments to the softer sex, but I like that Irish girl. Now, can anyone in this room tell me what is the matter with her?"

Cecil flung down her book, Molly stopped darning, and all the pairs of eyes were fixed on Mr. Danvers.

"Are you talking about Kitty?" asked Charlie.

"Yes, boy, I am," replied Mr. Danvers. "I am talking about the individual whom you all call Kate. A fine unworldly creature, with a dash of poetry about her. I believe I could even teach her to respect Homer, if I had her under my sway for a spell. But what's the matter with her?"

"We didn't know there was anything the matter," said Cecil. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, why isn't she in this room instead of being drowned in an awful gale of this kind?"

"Oh, weather is a matter of indifference to Kate!" answered Molly. "She is Irish, you know. I think she was quite delighted at the thought of going down to see the sea in a storm."

"Well, I hope she'll come back soon," remarked Mr. Danvers. "It isn't safe for a girl to be out in an awful gale of this kind, particularly a girl with the look in her eyes which she wore when I met her this morning."

"What sort of look?" asked Cecil, rising from her seat and coming up to the little man.

"A reckless, defiant, wretched look, which a young thing ought never to wear," he replied. "I am going out now to look for her. It isn't often I see a woman worth putting myself out about, but she's one. You can come with me, Maurice, if you like."

"Yes, sir, with pleasure," replied Maurice.

"And I," "And I," "And I!" cried the three other boys. "You can't keep us back, Cecil; we mean to go."

Cecil did not reply.

"Now that the men of the party have made themselves scarce, perhaps we can read," she said.

She resumed her book placidly; she was evidently not in the least anxious about Kate. Molly leaned back on her sofa and took up her darning. Matilda went to the window. It was strange that Matilda should be the only one of the three girls who felt the least bit uncomfortable, but such was the case. She, too, had seen that startled, defiant look in Kate's dark eyes. Perhaps there was danger down by the shore. Certainly the gale was an awful one. How the wind did shriek and scream! How the rain rattled against the window panes!

"Of course I can't pretend to care for her," said Matilda to herself, "but I shall be a little more comfortable when she comes home. I should not like her to be knocked down or hurt in any way; I should feel that I had done it. Oh, nonsense! what in the world am I thinking about? That I had done it? What have I to do with it? All the same, I'll be glad when she comes back. Mr. Danvers said she looked in trouble; well, yes, she did."

"Matilda, won't you sit down?" said Molly; "you do fidget so by the window."

"I can't help fidgeting," said Matilda; "there's such an awful gale on. Say, you two girls, won't you be pleased when Kate comes back?"

"Of course," said Cecil, looking up with an expression of surprise; "but I didn't know that you cared."

"You think I care for nothing," said Matilda; "you have a hateful opinion of me."

"Sit down, Matty," said Molly, in a kind voice. "Here's a cozy seat on the sofa, and here is your novel, nice and handy."

"I can't read," said Matilda; "I am frightened. I never heard such wind, and how dark it is getting! What an awful day! I certainly do hate the seaside in winter."

"No one asked you to come," said Cecil. "If you won't read, perhaps you will stop talking. Molly, I think I'll get Mr. Danvers to go over this passage with me; I can't quite get at the meaning of it. Do you think he will mind?"

"No, of course he won't; he'll love to help you," said Molly.

"There's a flash of lightning," exclaimed Matilda, covering her face with, her hands. "Oh, how vivid! oh, I'm terrified of lightning! What a clap of thunder! it almost shook the house. Girls, it isn't safe for Kate to be out in this storm, is it?"

Another flash of lightning came, even more blinding than the first. Matilda crouched and shivered. Cecil and Molly put down their different occupations and walked to the windows.

"I do wish they were all in," said Cecil. "It certainly is an awful day."

"Well, here they are, they're coming," said Molly. "Don't you see Jimmy, how he rushes down the street? and that's Charlie with him, and there's Ted in the background."

A moment later the three younger boys dashed into the room.

"I say, you girls," cried Jimmy, "there's something awful up! Oh, we don't know what it is! but Kate can't be found anywhere, and Mr. Danvers and Maurice have gone on to the coastguard station to get some of the coastguards to help to look for her. There is an awful gale down by the shore, and the tide will be several feet higher than usual to-night, and she's nowhere to be seen."

"I knew it!" cried Matilda; "I knew it, and it is my fault!"

She fell down in a heap on the floor, and lay there, with her face hidden.

The girls and the three boys, who were dripping wet, stood and stared at her.

"Do speak!" said Cecil, catching Jimmy by the shoulders and turning him toward her. "Let Matilda alone. What did you say about Kate?"

"That—that no one can find her. She's nowhere along the shore," said Jimmy.

"But why should she be there at all?"

"She was there. An old fisherman saw her; he saw her more than two hours ago. She was going toward the caves where the skeletons are."

"Well," said Cecil, "well, speak! What is it, Jimmy? What is the matter? You look—terrified."

"I am," said Jimmy; "I can't help it. It takes a great deal to make a coward of me, but I am a coward now. It is Kitty, you know, Cecil. Cecil, they say the caves are completely covered; the others say they must be full of water now, and—and it's Kitty. If she's there, she's drowned like a rat. Oh, I'm going to help! I'll go back—I will help! Maurice and Mr. Danvers sent me back, but I will help to find her."

"I can't realize it," said poor Cecil, putting her hand to her forehead. "What are Maurice and Mr. Danvers doing?"

"They are going to take out a lifeboat to try and reach the caves."

"But they'll be drowned, too," said Molly.

"As if they cared for that when there's a girl to save!" said Jimmy, in a tone of withering scorn. "What are boys and men for but to save plucky girls like Kitty? Oh, I say, I wish you wouldn't make so much noise, Matilda!"

"Do get up, Matty, and stop crying and pulling your hair about," said Molly.

Cecil did not speak, but her face was like a sheet.

"It is my fault," said Matilda; "it is my fault!"

"What in the world do you mean?"

Matilda sat up and stared round her. For the first time in her whole life she was completely natural; she absolutely forgot herself.

"I did it," she said; "I goaded her to it. She'll never come home; she'll be drowned, and I shall be haunted by her all the rest of my days."

"Stop talking in that way, and tell us the truth," said Cecil sternly. "What did you do? Speak at once! Oh, what a mistake we made in bringing you here!"

"You did; I wish I'd never come. I made her nearly mad. I don't care who knows now. Perhaps I wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't been so cruel and spiteful."

"I?" said Cecil.

"Yes, you—you hate me so! I wouldn't have done it, perhaps, if only Molly had been here. Molly really tries to be good."

"Tell us!" said Cecil. "Stop talking about your motive. Speak—quick!"

"I heard all that Miss Forester said the other day about Kate."

"Then you eavesdropped again?"

"Yes."

"When and where?"

"In the shelter down by the shore. I was afraid the boys would bully me, and I crept into the back part, where there was repairing going on; and I pulled a tarpaulin over me, and no one saw me. You and Molly came in, and you read Miss Forester's letter aloud. I heard everything, and I was delighted. I was glad that Kate was to be humbled, and was to be only a charity girl. You dropped the letter going upstairs. I found it and put it in my pocket. I was very anxious that Kate should know the truth."

"You are a nice specimen of humanity," said Cecil.

"Oh, do let her speak now, Cecil!" said Molly.

"I don't care who knows," said Matilda. "Oh, there's another awful flash of lightning! I'm afraid I'll be struck; I'm not a bit fit to die. Oh, yes, I'm sorry I've been such a bad girl! You can't scold me, Cecil, more than I scold myself. Oh, there's another flash! Oh, I shall certainly be struck! Isn't it safest to go down into a cellar or to get into a feather bed?"

"Do go on!" said Cecil.

"Oh, I'm terrified! Oh, I know I'm a bad girl! You can't hate me more than I hate myself. Oh, dear, do let me take off my watch, and fling the keys out of my pocket! It isn't safe in a storm to have any sort of metal about you."

"Will you go on?" said Cecil.

"Yes, yes! I wanted Kate to know. You thought you had burned the letter with some other rubbish. I acted on that idea, and tore the letter in two, and burned the edges, and stuck the pieces under the fender here. Then last night I pushed the fender aside, and Kate saw the letter, and she recognized the writing, and I snatched it up and read a passage aloud before she could stop me. I read the part which told her everything. She knew her money was gone, and she was to be a charity girl. Oh, she was mad, mad, and she must have gone out to drown herself to-day! I expect she did. She's horribly proud, though you think her good. It's an awful sin on her part to be so proud. Why should she mind being a charity girl, if she is one? Oh, dear, oh, dear! another flash! That lightning will strike me dead. Oh, girls! do you think God will forgive me; do you think he will?"

"I can't speak to you," said Cecil. "I am going out."