“But wasn’t there anything about you by which you could be identified?” inquired Katherine, who had been deeply interested in the pathetic story.

“Nothing but a string of amber beads with a queer gold clasp, and with the initials ‘A.  A. to M. A. J.’ engraved on the back of it.  Now, do you think that Christian Science could solve such a riddle as that?” demanded the girl, in conclusion.

Katherine smiled faintly.

“There is nothing of clairvoyance in Christian Science, dear, and that is a hard question to explain to you,” she said.  “I mean difficult to answer so that you would clearly understand me.  But it is sufficient for every human need, and very wonderful things have been demonstrated through the right comprehension of it.  I know of men who govern their business by it, and who have solved some very perplexing problems.  But I am talking again!” she exclaimed, and breaking off suddenly once more.

“Oh, if I could only find out who I am, I’d be a Christian Scientist, or—­anything else!” cried Jennie, with tears in her eyes, but gritting her teeth to keep the drops from falling.  “It is dreadful to feel yourself to be such an enigma!  Think of it! to have your identity lost.  I get awfully worked up over it sometimes.  Auntie is a dear, and I love her with all my heart, for she has been an angel of goodness to me.  She isn’t very well off, but she wanted me to have a first-class education and be with nice girls; so, after talking with Prof.  Seabrook, she said if I would be willing to work for a part of the expense she would try to make up the rest.”

“How perfectly lovely of Miss Wild!” said Katherine, earnestly.  “And you, too, Jennie, deserve great credit for your own efforts to get a good education.  But—­”

“But what?”

“I wonder if I may say it?” mused Katherine, doubtfully.

Jennie slipped her hand within Katherine’s arm and gave it a fond little hug.

“Miss Minturn, I’ve loved you ever since the day you came to Hilton.  You are a dear—­you have been just as kind as you could be to me, and you may say anything you like,” she impulsively returned.

“Thank you; that is giving me a good deal of license,” was the laughing response; “but what I wanted to say was—­make the getting of your education, instead of fun, your chief object, and don’t spoil your record by breaking rules.”

“As I have to-day, for instance?” supplemented Jennie, flushing.

“Yes, to-day, and—­on some other occasions that I could mention.”

The girl gave vent to a hearty, rollicking laugh.

“You manage to see considerable with those innocent eyes of yours,” she said, after a moment.  “But I don’t get very much fun after all.  With all my work and my studies there is precious little time left me for recreation, and, sometimes, I get so full I just have to kick over the traces.  But—­surely you don’t think I could get any harm from your service to-day,” she concluded, demurely.