“I wish I’d been there,” remarked Eloise.  There was a look around her mouth which would have boded no good to anybody if she had.  “When I see what brutes women can be, sometimes I am ashamed because I am a woman.”

“And,” returned Barbara, softly, “when I see what good angels women can be, it makes me proud to be a woman.”

“Where do you get your material?” asked Eloise, quickly.

Barbara named the large department store where Aunt Miriam bought linen, lawn, batiste, lace, patterns, and incidentally managed to absorb ideas.

“I see I’m needed in Riverdale-by-the-Sea,” observed Miss Wynne.  “I can arrange for you to buy all you want at the lowest wholesale price.”

“Would it save anything?” asked Barbara, doubtfully.

[Sidenote:  Practical Help]

“Would it?” repeated Eloise, smiling.  “Just wait and see.  After I’ve written about that and had some samples sent to you, we’ll talk over half a dozen or more complete sets of lingerie for me, and some more shirtwaists.  Is there a pen downstairs?  I want to write a check for you.”

When they went into the living-room, Barbara’s cheeks were burning with excitement and her eyes shone like stars.  When she took the check, which Eloise wrote with an accustomed air, she could scarcely speak, but managed to stammer out, “Thank you.”

“You needn’t,” said Eloise, coolly, “for I’m only buying what I want at a price I consider very reasonable and fair.  If you’ll get some samples of your work ready, I’ll send up for them, and hurry them on to my friend who is to put them into the Woman’s Exchange.  And please don’t sell anything more just now.  I’ve just thought of a friend whose daughter is going to be married soon, and she may want me to select some things for her.”

“You’re a fairy godmother,” said Barbara.  “This morning we were poor and discouraged.  You came in and waved your wand, and now we are rich.  I have heart for anything now.”

[Sidenote:  Always Rich]

“You are always rich while you have courage, and without it Croesus himself would be poor.  It’s not the circumstance, remember—­it’s the way you meet it.”

“I know,” said Barbara, but her eyes filled with tears of gratitude, nevertheless.

Ambrose North came in from the street, and immediately felt the presence of a stranger in the room.  “Who is here?” he asked.

“This is Miss Wynne, Father.  She is stopping at the hotel and came up to call.”

The old man bowed in courtly fashion over the young woman’s hand.  “We are glad to see you,” he said, gently.  “I am blind, but I can see with my soul.”

“That is the true sight,” returned Eloise.  Her big brown eyes were soft with pity.

“Have many of the guests come?” he inquired.

“I have a friend,” laughed Eloise, “who says it is wrong to call people ‘guests’ when they are stopping at a hotel.  He insists that ‘inmates’ is a much better word.”