She would never have known Bertie Sanderson. The long, disorderly hair, as well as the disfiguring "bangs," had, by the doctor's orders, all been shaved off; the round, rosy cheeks were pallid and sunken; the solid frame was wasted almost to a skeleton, and there was a fierce, wild look in the eyes alternated with an expression of intense fear. Katie stood aghast, and even as she looked the wasted lips suddenly shrieked out:-- "Katie, Katie Robertson! Send her here. I want to tell her something." "I am here," said Katie, as soothingly as she could, for her fright. But Bertie took no sort of notice of her; evidently did not recognize her at all, and went on:-- "It wasn't a lie! I did see her find it and put it in her pocket. That's being a thief, isn't it? It was money--a great deal of money. I saw a five and a nought. It wasn't a lie, I tell you! She did steal it! Katie's a thief, for all she's so saintly." Katie started. This, then, was the mystery; this was the secret thing that had been setting so many against her. She had never in all her speculations concerning the general avoidance thought of this as a cause. Bertie must have seen her find that fifty-dollar bill and put it in her pocket. But even if, from mere idleness, she had repeated the story to her companions, had she told simply what she really saw, could it be called stealing? And if Miss Eunice or Miss Etta had heard it they would naturally have spoken of it to their brother; he would have told the facts as he knew them, and that would have made matters all straight. Bertie must have altered her tale in some way, exaggerated it, or suppressed a part. What for? Could her companion be so malicious as simply to desire to make her unpopular and to prevent the young ladies from looking upon her with approbation? She could not understand it. Of course she could not, for malice and jealousy were entirely foreign to Katie's nature, even if she had not been striving "in all her ways to acknowledge" her Saviour. She did wish, however, that she had thought of mentioning her good fortune and Mr. James's kindness at the time, that all this trouble might have been avoided. Meanwhile Bertie began to moan and cry and call for Katie; and the latter, after speaking in vain again and again, turned to go. "Oh, don't go away!" said Mrs. Sanderson, imperatively. "She'll know you by-and-by; and I can't stand her calling for you; besides, if you can just stay with Bertie and give her the medicine and drink, I might get a chance to see to Alf., who is most as bad as she is, and see what Nina's doing with those children; they've been screaming this half-hour. I don't believe she's given 'em a mite of dinner, and I guess there ain't anything in the house for supper. You just stay where you are."