Then he went downstairs and consulted Bertie's parents, and the result was that a letter was written to the city aunt begging her to come and help take care of the two sick children. The doctor wrote it himself, stating as delicately as he could the extreme urgency of the case, the inefficiency of the mother, the dangerous illness of the children, and the impossibility of securing any assistance in the care of them except that of an inexperienced little girl, who was herself in constant danger of being added to the list of patients. In answer to this appeal, after a couple of days, Mrs. Jamieson, who, if a silly, overindulgent mother, was a much more efficient woman than her sister, made her appearance in Squantown, and under her supervision matters were soon in a better condition, and Katie was no longer needed. She had made herself extremely useful, however, and all the family were unfeignedly obliged to her. The children could not bear to have her go, and Mr. Sanderson insisted upon giving her as much money as she would have earned during the days she had been absent from the mill. Dr. Bolen said she showed no signs of having taken the infection and it would be quite safe for her to go home if she would change all her clothes for those which Eric took to the bindery and Mr. Sanderson carried home, leaving everything she had worn in the sick-room behind her, and then would take a long walk, where the wind could blow her hair about and freshen her up thoroughly. Tessa and Katie had a long, long talk that night. The former had many things to tell of what had happened both in the mill and at home during the absence of the latter; how the rag-room had been closed and fumigated, the foreign rags all burned, and the girls and Miss Peters enjoyed a three days' holiday without having it deducted from their wages; how the old cat had presented the household with a lovely family of downy kittens, for which Alfred had made a little house in a box out in the yard; and how both boys had been very patient toward her cookery, laughing at her mistakes and helping her with their superior knowledge; and how they had stayed at home and played games with her every evening, thus preventing her from taking to novels again to cheer her loneliness, as she should otherwise have felt tempted to do. Then Katie told Tessa all about the fifty-dollar bill, of which she had never heard before and Bertie's unkindness in setting everybody against her; and Tessa said she had heard the rumors, and often tried to make the girls tell her what they meant, but the only thing she could find out was that Katie was dishonest. "I wonder you were friends with me, then," said Katie. "I should think you would have avoided me, just as all the other girls did. Weren't you ashamed to associate with a thief?" "Oh, Katie, you know I couldn't believe such a thing of you!--you who have been my best friend--the only real friend I have ever had."