The conversations they held with each other were long and intimate. Kate tried to put faith in the series of doctors who succeeded each other like chapters in a book, but the sufferer’s clear eyes saw not only through Kate’s kind intentions, but through the great surgeon’s hopeless hopes, and from the first she knew the worst. Knew that her bright youth was for ever gone; that her usefulness was ended; that never again could she expect even to ornament a social function, crippled as she was and disfigured by ungainly crutches. Her one hope was to die. Thus she made no effort to recover, and her strength, instead of aiding her, gradually faded away until her accident, though not at first of a fatal nature, began to be looked on as her death-blow. At this juncture, Addie, struck with remorse, came and offered Carolina a home, but Carolina shook her head. "Thank you, Addie, but when I move from here it will be to rest for ever. I want to die here with Kate. She loves me!" It was a bitter thrust, and Addie felt it to the verge of tears. Indeed, she was so moved by pity for the frail shadow that Carolina had become, that she forgave the girl for having been so beautiful and began to be fond of her, as one is fond of a crippled child, who had been obnoxious in health. Trouble develops people. Mrs. Winchester was detained in Boston by the dangerous illness of the niece she had gone to visit, and although greatly fretting at being kept away from Carolina, was fairly obliged to stay. Carolina felt that she was welcome at the Howards, for not only Kate’s mother but her father often came to sit with her and cheer her and to urge upon her how glad they were to be able to help her when she needed help. Carolina was grateful, the more so because she felt that she had not long to live. She had been in bed several months, and while the surgeons said the broken bones had knit, yet it was agony for her to move. She almost fainted with pain when they were obliged to lift her from one position to another. Kate spent hours in trying to interest her in the life around her. She felt frightened when she discovered the depth of Carolina’s listlessness. Her weakness took a stubborn form. "I am only one of the crowd now, Kate dear," she said one day after a long argument from her friend. "There is no use in wasting so much energy over me. Go and forget me and enjoy yourself. I used to be of the exclusive few who got their own ways always. Now I belong to the great mob of malcontents--the anarchists of the social world. I shall not want to blow up kings and presidents, but I would like to throw a bomb at every happy face I see." Her voice trailed off to a weak whisper. "Y-you wouldn’t need many bombs, then," said Kate, "for I never s-see any really happy faces. Did you ever in all your life--either at balls abroad or the opera here, see a perfectly happy face?" Carolina shook her head and closed her eyes wearily.