Helen was folding up the precious garments so lately acquired. The fondness with which she smoothed them betrayed her delight in their acquisition. Helen had vehemently protested she did not need so many pretty things, but Jane would have her fitted out as well, and perhaps a little better than most “freshies.” Helen looked up with the eyes truly labeled violet, and like that wonderful flower, the depths of their color was softened to velvet by the least glint of dew. “If you would not mind, Jane dear,” she risked. “I feel I should like to have everything packed. And what more can we possibly buy?” “All right, girlie. You may stay home and sigh, and kiss things up. I know you just hate to give up housekeeping, and I don’t blame you in the least. We have had a lovely time,” and Jane stopped to wind her arm around the curly head bent over the boxes on the floor. “You stay home if you wish, Helen, but don’t scold me if I bring you one more—little handkerchief, or something like that?” “Jane, I have wanted to tell you. I feel so over—over——” “Helen, you mean overwhelmed, don’t you?” suggested Judith. “Yes, Judith, that is the big word I want. I feel—that way about everything. I had many pretty things once, but since I came to America I have been glad to be here, and not think of all I once loved.” Jane and Judith paused in their rushing about and listened attentively. Jane had been rather dreading this little speech from Helen. “Yes, I have been so happy since I met you, and it seems we have been friends for always,” went on the Polish girl. “But I want you to know I do not expect to be ever like this—a—guest. Some day I shall be able to repay.” “Now don’t spoil everything by getting sad and gloomy,” Jane admonished. “You know we just need you as much as you need us. Can’t you see that?” “I am very glad,” and she brushed away something that blurred her big eyes. “I would like to do a great favor if ever I am the artist. I then will give—and give, and perhaps it will be a little, but never as much as this.” “You are engaged to play my wedding march, Helen,” Jane declared, “and I shall expect you to do that for the sake of these old times.” Jane was trying to make light of the threatening tragedy. “And besides that, you will surely have to play for Judith when she has her cowboy reunion. I believe she intends to engage the Hippodrome for that event.” “No place smaller, nor less substantial would answer my purpose,” Judith agreed, annexing Jane’s humor. “I am going to show this New York some day, what the boys of El Capitan can do in the way of entertaining. Just you wait, Helen, until next vacation. We will take you out to Montana, and show you all the wonders I have enjoyed. I have forever blotted from my childish memory the thought of any other battleground, as a vacation scene. What I enjoyed on Jane’s ranch is indelible.”