"Well, go on. What is it?" she asked, with that little imperious manner inseparable from herself. "She would not agree except on one condition." Kathleen looked at her in silent wonder, and, with pretended sorrow, Alpine said: "The condition was that you come as a housemaid--as a paid servant." She saw, with silent, secret malice, the angry crimson mount to Kathleen's pearly cheek, and remained silent a few moments to enjoy the sensation of proud Kathleen humiliated. Kathleen was indeed furious with resentment, and for a moment she could not speak for the great lump in her throat. Then she fought down her emotion with an iron will and looked straight at her tormentor, saying, coolly: "I suppose it is so hard for your mother to forget the position she once occupied in my father's house that she would be glad to sink his daughter to the same level." Alpine crimsoned. She always hated to remember that her mother had been Zaidee Carew's governess, and that it was hinted that her arts had driven the artless child-wife to despair and death. But it was not her policy to seem offended with Kathleen. To propitiate Ralph Chainey, she must still seem to be the friend of the girl he loved so dearly. So she looked at her lovely rival with a sad, sweet smile, and said: "Of course, I knew that you would not come--that way--and I told mamma so. But she made me promise to tell you what she said. You must not be angry with me, dear, for I have a better plan for you." The young girl looked at her in angry silence, asking herself: "What new insult?" "You know, of course, that your father, in a fit of anger against you, left me all his money in a will?" asked Alpine. Kathleen nodded coldly. "I am going to make you an allowance to live on, Kathleen. I told mamma I meant to do so, and she said your father did not intend for you to have a penny of that money. Of course, I knew that. But it makes no difference to me, for I can not bear to have you living on Mrs. Stone's charity. It is better for you to depend on me for your support than on a stranger. Don't you think so yourself?" Kathleen rose up, white-faced, indignant, goaded to fury. "No, I do not think so," she said, angrily. "I would rather starve in the streets than support life on an allowance from you, made out of the money that should be mine, but which you cheated me out of by some cunning trick known only to yourself and your mother. I believe you are deceitful, that you are only pretending a kind feeling for me to serve some purpose of your own. Go, go, and leave me to myself and my misery!" There was something in the looks and words of that frail, beautiful young girl that compelled obedience from Alpine. She rose instantly. "Well, good-bye, since you will not let me be your friend," she said, and glided from the room.