"Dennis Malone, Castle Malone, County Donegal," was inscribed on the small piece of pasteboard. It evidently had a good effect, but a still greater effect was produced by the sparkling and lovely eyes of the handsome girl who spoke in a tone of quiet assurance.
"Father will be so grateful to you for taking us in," she continued. "It would be terrible, you know, if you allowed us to wander about the streets. I am going to telegraph to him now, and he will arrive here, I have no doubt, within the next twenty-four hours. I have not much money with me," added Kitty frankly, "but father will bring plenty—plenty when he arrives."
Again the man and woman whispered together, and now approving and interesting glances turned in Kitty's direction. The woman presently said:
"Very well, miss, we'll do our best for you. Will you follow me, miss?"
She took Kitty and Elma upstairs and showed them into the best room in the house. In a very short time poor Elma found herself in bed, with Kitty bending over her, kissing her now and then, and whispering kind words in her ears.
"I have managed beautifully with the people of the hotel," whispered Kitty. "And now, darling, you'll be made so comfortable. I am going to make up to you for—for what Carrie said I did."
"But you did nothing; it was I who was bad, very bad," cried Elma.
"Oh, don't begin to get remorseful now, while you are ill. Wait, at least until you are better. I have ordered some fruit and jelly and ice, and I have asked the landlady—isn't she a dear—to send for the doctor."
"It seems like a dream," said Elma. "Is it possible that everything has changed so completely, and you—you, Kitty Malone—you to whom I have acted so badly, are good to me?"
"Yes, yes, I mean to be good to you; but don't begin to fret about your sins until you are better. Leave unpleasant things alone. Go to sleep, Elma; go to sleep."