She got up and walked towards the girl. Richard, knowing all argument was useless, went with her. When they stopped, Penelope, bending down, peeped beneath the brim of the lace hat which, laden with an abundance of red roses, was tilted over the motionless girl's face.
"She is sleeping," she whispered softly to Dick. "Her eyes are closed. She has a lovely face."
"Has she, indeed?" and Dick, with increased interest, bent to look. "She is very pale and—I am afraid that she is ill," in an awed tone. "Young lady!" he called nerviously,
The girlish figure never moved. Richard's and Penelope's eyes met with a swift expression—a mingled look of surprise and fear.
"My dear!" called Penelope, gently shaking the girl by the shoulder.
The lace hat tumbled off and lay at their
