It was really only a paraphrase of the old story of the grub and the butterfly. The little, starveling drudge who had found him in the store, that first day, had completely vanished; it was as if she had never been. In her place he discovered a girl all grace and loveliness, her slender figure ripening into gracious womanhood; a girl of mind and heart and understanding, all fire and tenderness; demure, intelligent, with a pretty pose of independence and sureness of herself moderated by modesty and reserve. Her travelling dress of sober colouring and severe lines became her bewitchingly. Beneath the brim of her dainty hat, with veil thrown back, her dark hair waved back, glossy with the sheen of perfect well-being, from a face serenely charming--the more so for her slightly deepened flush; and the eyes that shone into Nat's danced with the light of enjoyment, bred of his supreme astonishment.... "Nat, I'm so glad to see you again!" He was speechless. She laughed, put down her suit-case, and moved toward him, offering him both her hands. He took them, stammering. "It's such a surprise, Betty----!" "I knew it would be. I just couldn't wait, Nat, when I found I could get here by the night train instead of tomorrow morning. I haven't been home, you know, but I couldn't resist the temptation to stop in here and see--what the store looked like after all these months. Besides, I thought that you or father----" Her eyes fell and she faltered, withdrawing her hands. By now he had himself in hand. "Why," he laughed, "you nearly took my breath away. Even now I can hardly believe it..." "Believe what, Nat?" she asked quickly. "That you're the same little Betty Graham. I never saw such a change." "It's a change for the better, isn't it, Nat?" she asked with a smile half wistful. "I should think it was. It's just marvellous!" "Did I seem so very awful, then?" "Nonsense. You know you didn't, only, now..." "Then you think father will be pleased?" "If he isn't, I'm blind!" She looked away, embarrassed, and touched by his interest and his feeling. "And does it make you a little proud, Nat?" "Proud!" he exclaimed blankly. "Because you know you've done it all. If there's any improvement in Betty Graham to-day, it's because of you. If it hadn't been for you----" "Never in the world; you don't know what you're talking about, Betty. Nobody but yourself could have brought about this change. It had to be in you before it could come out. You know that." She shook her head very decidedly, seating herself on one of the chairs by the soda-fountain. "Oh, no," she contradicted calmly and sincerely. "Why, Nat, don't you suppose I have any memory? You began making me a better girl the very first day we met here in the store, by the things you said to me. And ever since I've been watching you, while you were making life a Heaven for father and me, and thinking that if I were a man I'd try to be as near like you as I could."