But something sterner than waxed floors had wrought the havoc here.

How much of life's ground all unknown to her had these poor little slippers trodden?
Was it often like that ?--that the things created for the fun and the joy found the paths of tragedy?
She had put them away and was at last going to bed when she idly picked up the evening paper.

What she saw was that the Daisey-Maisey Opera Company was playing at the city across the river.

Something made her stand there very still.

Could it be--?
Might it not be--?
She did not know.