"Yes," says Bonnie Bell; "and, as far as that goes, if I could get you to come with me I would always ride a horse and not go in a car or boat." "Boat?" says Miss Kimberly. "Oh, of course you have 'em too." "Come down," says Bonnie Bell, "and you and I can look at my horses and boat and things. After that I'll take you home." "Oh, may I go?" says this Katherine girl. "You see, I suppose I must get home before they tell mommah." Well, she hadn't more than got out on our porch than she knew in a minute where she was. This was where she showed she was a lady born and a good girl too. She never let on beyond that first look--she seen she had been brought into the house of us can-nyes. This was the house with the wall, where nobody of the Row ever went. "How lovely it is!" says she. "Do you know you have the nicest place on this whole street? It's tasteful. I like this little sunken garden--it's a dear! And see how the ivy grows on the wall! And over there's the boathouse. May I see your things?" Now what she said last wasn't any bluff. It was just the girl in her talking to another girl. I seen Bonnie Bell give her another look, kind of asting like--she herself was free and friendly every way; but she hadn't been used to this right along lately. So she looks at this Katherine Kimberly right close for about half a second, till she seen she was on the square. Then this Kimberly girl puts her arm round Bonnie Bell. That was the way them two went down to the boathouse--their arms around one another. When they come back, in about ten minutes or so, they was talking so fast neither one of them could of heard what the other was saying. "Oh, my goodness!" says Katherine after a little. "I must be going home. It isn't far, you know." "Yes; I know," says Bonnie Bell, quiet. "And you said you'd take me home in your car?" "And you want me to?" says Bonnie Bell, kind of funny. "I wish you would--if you will. Of course I could walk." "Does your head hurt now?" ast Bonnie Bell. The girl looked at her straight. Then I knew she was on the square. "No, it don't," says she; "but I'd like it if you would take me home in your car," says she. "I want you to come in and meet my mommah. We want to come down here if you'll let us, all of us. Will you let us? Will you let us, Bonnie?" says she. Now, ain't it funny how much can happen quiet and easy? I expect more had happened for Bonnie Bell this last hour or so than had in a whole year before--and all by accident, like most good things comes to us. Not a woman in that block had ever called on Bonnie Bell and it didn't look like they ever would. We wasn't on the map--even me, that ain't got any brains at all, knowed that.