Mrs. Burrell looked relieved. “I just hate to keep changing. It seems to me we do nothing here in Washington but dress, dress. I get so sick of it! That’s the worst of living in these hotels. You never feel at home.” After starting with the old lady, Helen Briggs hesitated to broach the subject of Carrie Cora’s love affair. A remark she made soon after they had settled down into conversation unexpectedly relieved her of the necessity. “I hope Carrie Cora doesn’t mind being left alone in the apartment,” she said. “Oh, Lor’, no,” Mrs. Burrell replied. “I’ve never seen anyone like her. She just loves to be alone. She’s always been queer about that, and lately she’s been queerer than ever. She don’t seem to take an interest in anything. Now, last night, she’d never have gone with us but for you. She hates parties; but she thinks everything of you.” Mrs. Burrell drew nearer Helen. “She’s in love,” she whispered. Helen smiled. “There isn’t any great harm in that.” “There wouldn’t be,” Mrs. Burrell agreed, “if the young man belonged to her station in life. But he don’t. He ain’t got a cent to his name.” “I’m sorry to hear that. But isn’t there anything else against him?--besides his being poor, I mean.” “Oh, I guess he’s _good_ enough,” Mrs. Burrell acknowledged, grudgingly. “I never heard anything against him. His name is Rufus James,” she added, as if this fact in some way explained his condition. “He’s here in Washington now.” Her lips tightened as she looked at Helen with an expression that said: “Think of that!” As Helen said nothing, Mrs. Burrell went on: “Of course, he come just because she was here.” “He must be very fond of her,” Helen ventured to remark. “But I don’t wonder; Carrie Cora is a very fine girl.” “She _is_ a fine girl. I declare to goodness I wish she wouldn’t keep her light under a bushel. She does make me so mad! She could have gone to the best teachers down to Boston or anywhere. Father even offered to send her to Europe. She said she’d rather stay at home and do housework. She’s a splendid housekeeper. I sometimes think that’s what Rufus James wants to marry her for.” “Well, that’s a great compliment to Carrie Cora,” Helen laughed. “It seems to me a pretty good reason for marrying, too.” “And have her go off and live in some tumble-down place in Auburn!” Mrs. Burrell exclaimed, in horror. “But perhaps that’s the only way she could be happy,” Helen insisted, gently. “Carrie Cora’s naturally domestic. I can see that.” Mrs. Burrell sighed. “And I always wanted to make something of her! I’m sure her father’s spent money enough.” “But if she makes a good wife and mother--that will be enough, won’t it? Besides, is Rufus James so very poor?” “I don’t believe he makes more than a thousand dollars a year.” “That’s just what Douglas was earning when we became engaged,” said Helen. “What?” Mrs. Burrell looked startled. “Well, I declare!” she said.