"Well, poor Hildegarde is sensible enough _now_ to satisfy _even_ her mother. Ever since she came home from that _odious_ place, it has been one round of hospitals and tenement-houses and _sloughs of horror_. I don't mean that she has given up school, for she is studying harder than ever; but out of school she is simply _swallowed up_ by these wretched things. I have remonstrated with her _almost_ on my KNEES. 'Hildegarde,' I said one day, 'do you REALIZE that you are practically _giving up_ your _whole_ LIFE? If you once _lose your place_ in Society among those of your _own age_ and _position_, you NEVER can regain it. Do you REALIZE this, Hilda? for I feel it a SOLEMN DUTY to _warn_ you!' My dear, she actually LAUGHED! and only said, 'Dear Madge, I have only just begun to have any life!' And that was _all_ I could get out of her, for just then some one came in. But even _this_ is not _the worst_! Oh, Helen! she has some of the _creatures_ whom she saw this summer, actually _staying_ in the house,--in THAT house, which we used to call Castle Graham, and were almost afraid to enter ourselves, so stately and beautiful it was! There are two of these creatures,--a girl about our age, some sort of dreadful cripple, who goes about in a bath-chair, and a freckled imp of a boy. The girl is at ---- Hospital for treatment, but spends _every Sunday_ at the Grahams', and Hilda devotes _most_ of her spare time to her. The boy is at school,--one of the _best_ schools in the city. 'But _who_ are these people?' I hear you cry. My dear! they are simply _ignorant paupers_, who were Hilda's constant companions through that _disastrous summer_. Now their mother is dead, and the people with whom Hilda stayed have adopted them. The boy is to be a doctor, and the girl is going to get well, Dr. George says. (_He_ calls her a beautiful and interesting creature; but you know what _that_ means. _Any diseased_ creature is beautiful to _him_!) Well, and THESE, my dear Helen, are Hilda Graham's FRIENDS, for whom she has _deserted_ her OLD _ones_! for though she is _unchanged_ towards me when I see her, I hardly ever _do_ see her. She cares nothing for _my_ pursuits, and I certainly have NO intention of joining in _hers_. I met her the other day on _Fifth Avenue_, walking beside that _odious_ bath-chair, which the freckled boy was pushing. She looked so _lovely_ (for she is prettier than ever, with a fine color and eyes like _stars_), and was talking so earnestly, and walking somehow as if she were treading on air, it sent a PANG through my heart. I just paused an instant (for though I _trust_ I am not SNOBBISH, Helen, still, I _draw the line_ at bath-chairs, and will _not_ be seen standing by one), and said in a low tone,