"Now, think it out for yourself, Snuggy," was often his answer when the little girl came to him with a question. If she sometimes came to a conclusion more astonishing than illuminating, Mr. Cameron merely chuckled and told her mother that the exercise of Carolyn's imagination was good for her. "I really do not think it needs exercising, Lewis," Hannah Cameron once said seriously. "She was playing 'having visitors' the other day when it rained and she was kept in, and I allowed her to 'receive' in the parlour. But when I went in myself after a while there really wasn't a chair I could sit on. She had filled them all with her imaginary friends and objected strenuously to my sitting in their laps!" "Ha! ha!" laughed her husband. "Why didn't you try holding one of her callers in _your_ lap?" "I never thought of that," answered Mrs. Cameron. "It is plain to be seen from which side of the family Carolyn May gets her gift of imagination." The little girl exercised this trait much on the affairs of the pale lady during the next few weeks. She saw the bald poverty of the young couple and yet realized that they were people to whom one could not offer charity of any description. "Of course, Mamma," she said, "we can give papa's old clothes to Mrs. Dorgan and even some of my outgrown frocks to Mrs. O'Harrity, in the basement, for little Elsie. But somehow--I _guess_--it wouldn't be nice to offer Mrs. Laird one of your dresses that you could spare." "I appreciate the fact that your friend cannot be very well helped in that way," mused Mrs. Cameron. "Her refusing the twenty-dollar bill for a new baby go-cart showed that." There were a multitude of interests in Carolyn May's busy life just now. The end of the school term was in close view. And preparations for the long outing away from the city greatly delighted the child. "I wish you and the baby were going with us," she said to the pale lady one day, just before the school graduating exercises. It was probably the last time Carolyn May and Prince would be able to call on the pale lady until their return to the city in the autumn. "I sincerely wish we were, Carolyn May," said the young woman, with a tired sigh. She had just laid her baby on the bed and spread a fly net over him. She was more pale than ever today and her head seemed so heavy with its red-gold hair piled so high, that it drooped like a broken-stemmed flower. "You know," said the little girl, "our house is lots cooler than _this_; yet we are going away and you--_you_, I s'pose, can't go?" "Oh, no!" murmured her friend. "Laird cannot compass it this summer, I fear. There are too many bills. We _must_ catch up--" She stopped. Carolyn looked up suddenly, for the pale lady did not speak again. She saw her sinking slowly sideways from her chair to the floor. "Oh!" screamed the little girl, and then muffled the cry behind her palm for fear of waking the baby.