FOR a long time Katy lay motionless upon her bed. The shock of Uncle Edwin's announcement was overwhelming; it robbed her of power to move or think. When an hour later Aunt Sally tiptoed into the room, she found her still upon her bed, her face buried in the pillow, relaxed in what seemed to be a heavy sleep. Aunt Sally gathered her clothes from the untidy heap into which they had been tossed, and laid them on the back of a chair and drew down the shade so that the sun should not shine directly into the sleeper's eyes; then she closed the door softly and went down the steps. Katy did not stir until the sun had vanished behind the western hills and the stars were shining. Then she rose and bathed her face and sat down by the window. "I must think," said Katy. "I must now plan out my life in a new way." Stubbornly she forced herself to face the event which made necessary this fresh planning of her life. Beyond the event itself she did not at this moment proceed. She beheld Alvin with his red tie, Alvin with his dark curls, Alvin with his beautiful olive skin, Alvin with his great, expressive eyes. Sitting by her window with the soft evening air blowing in her face, the odors of the garden rising sweetly about her, Adam's gentle, laughing voice, and all the other pleasant sounds of the Millerstown evening in her ears, Katy wept. "Oh, Elend (Misery)!" cried she, after the manner of Millerstown in trouble. After a while the voice of pride made itself heard. It was not Alvin whom she defended, but herself. "No word of marrying was said between us." "But he kissed you," reminded the inward voice. "You thought he would marry you." To this Katy could return only the answer of flaming cheeks and a throbbing heart. "And there is all the money you gave him!" reminded the voice within her. "I said he needn't pay it back!" "But you expected him to pay it back!" "But he needn't!" "An honorable person would pay it before he got married." "He has no money! He has nothing to pay it with!" "He had an agency for neckties! He has enough to get married!" It seemed to Katy that a ring of queer faces mocked her. She had eaten only a mouthful of supper, and she was a little light-headed. She seemed to see clearly the "lady from away" of whom her uncle had spoken. Imagination, helped by recollection of the beautiful ladies in the Allentown stores, pictured her clearly. She was brilliant and beautiful and learned, and she dressed marvelously. She was probably an acquaintance whom Alvin had made at school; she was all that Katy longed to be. Now there rushed upon Katy a new and terrible sensation. She had been envious of David Hartman because he was going away to school, but here was a new kind of envy which affected not only the mind but the whole being. She threw herself down on her bed once more and hid her face in the pillow and wept with deep, sobbing gasps.