She was a real nice girl once, and I always liked her.

But she doesn't take any care of herself." As Pinky went out, an hour before, she met a fresh-looking girl, not over seventeen, and evidently from the country.

She was standing on the pavement, not far from the house in which Mrs.Bray lived, and had a traveling-bag in her hand.

Her perplexed face and uncertain manner attracted Pinky's attention.
"Are you looking for anybody ?" she asked.
"I'm trying to find a Mrs.Bray," the girl answered.

"I'm a stranger from the country." "Oh, you are ?" said Pinky, drawing her veil more tightly so that her disfigured face could not be seen.
"Yes I'm from L----." "Indeed?
I used to know some people there." "Then you've been in L---- ?" said the girl, with a pleased, trustful manner, as of one who had met a friend at the right time.
"Yes, I've visited there." "Indeed?
Who did you know in L---- ?" "Are you acquainted with the Cartwrights ?" "I know of them.