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THE telephone tinkled in the Scovell House, and Miss Lydia Scovell answered it. She began with the usual, "Hello—yes, this is Liddy.—What? What? She did?—You don't say so! You know I suspicioned something like that! I sure did! Oh, I seen enough! Plenty! I'll tell you when I see you. No, you can be sure she won't! Not a day longer! I run a respectable house. I do! Why, I'd see her in Jericho before I'd keep her a minute longer! I will, I'll go right up this minute an' give her her walkin' papers! Yes, I will! Good-bye, Roxie, an' much obliged for tellin' me!—Oh, I guess that's all right, me an' you didn't see exactly the same about Mr. Beavers, but now I know you are my frien'.—Well, I try to do right, too. Good-bye an' thank you ag'in," and she snapped up the receiver.

The old woman started up the stairs, thinking to herself, "I'll show her! The two-faced hussy!" She tramped smartly along the upper hall to the door of her boarder's room.

When she entered the door the hotel keeper stood, tall and gaunt, looking at the girl who lay prostrate on the bed with her hair about her face.

Miss Scovell had meant to fall into instant and violent vituperation, but now there was something about the forlorn figure on the bed which checked the bitterest of her thoughts. She cleared her throat in a menacing manner. Nessie gave a faint start and turned her face from her pillow to look with swollen eyes at the old maid.

The two women looked at each other silently for a moment, the young woman struck down, the old one slowly soured through causes fundamentally the same. Neither was