"It's all right," thought the girl. She left the house, and a few moments later was walking at a rapid pace in the direction of Constantine Road. The thought of her disobedience, of the daring of her own act, but added zest and pleasure to her walk. "How happy I shall be when I get the money," she said to herself. "I'll coax Fred or Mrs. Denvers to get me a postal order to-morrow, and I'll send it to Laurie at once. Oh, what a weight will be off my mind! Why, I'll almost feel inclined to turn good again!" The walk to Constantine Road was a long one, and Kitty on this occasion was determined to avoid the neighborhood of the "Spotted Leopard." In preference she took the short cut across the common. It was very lonely here, but she had no fear of ghosts or bogies. She walked with her upright, young carriage, her quick, alert, dancing step. It was ten o'clock however, before she reached Constantine Road. She ran up the steps of No. 14, and rang the bell. The door was opened to her by the servant, Maggie. "Oh, Miss Malone," cried that young woman, "is that yourself, miss? I has got into the most terrible trouble." Maggie's face was flushed and blistered with crying. "They has took away my wiolets, miss, and I call it a bitter, cruel shame." "Never mind that now, Maggie," answered Kitty, "I want to see Miss Elma. Is she in?" "That she is, miss, and she shan't escape you this time. Come right into the parlor, and I'll send her down to you." Kitty danced into the house. As far as her appearance now went she had never known a sorrow nor a care in her life. She stood in the center of the room, waiting impatiently for Elma to appear. Maggie having shut her in, went cautiously upstairs. Elma and Carrie were in their bedroom. Carrie was already in bed. Maggie, who seemed to scent mischief all round, thought she would now act with considerable guile. She knocked a low and gentle knock on the panel of the door. Elma came to open it. "What is it, Maggie?" "Miss Helma, will you come outside on the landing for a minute?" Elma went out. "I have a bit of news about that money, miss. If you'll come right down to the dining-room I'll tell you there." "News about my money, Maggie? Oh, impossible!" But hope, ever ready to dawn in the human breast, could not help rising now on poor Elma's horizon. It all seemed utterly impossible; but what earthly sense would there be in Maggie telling a lie. "I was just getting into bed," she said. "Can't you tell me here?" "No, miss, it's not me at all; it's news of the money you'll get if you just come down to the dining-room, and be quick about it." "Well, _I_ may as well go. Is there anybody there?" "You go and find out, miss." "Oh!" thought Elma, "Sam Raynes has repented. He was able to find money after all, and has brought it to me. This is nice." "What's the matter, Elma?" called Carrie from her bed. "Nothing, Carrie. I'll be back in a few moments."