Esther took up the London Journal to hide her reddening cheeks.

“Oh, read some of it aloud,” cried Dutch Debby.  “It’ll be like old times.”

Esther hesitated, a little ashamed of such childish behavior.  But, deciding to fall in for a moment with the poor woman’s humor, and glad to change the subject, she read:  “Soft scents steeped the dainty conservatory in delicious drowsiness.  Reclining on a blue silk couch, her wonderful beauty rather revealed than concealed by the soft clinging draperies she wore, Rosaline smiled bewitchingly at the poor young peer, who could not pluck up courage to utter the words of flame that were scorching his lips.  The moon silvered the tropical palms, and from the brilliant ball-room were wafted the sweet penetrating strains of the ‘Blue Danube’ waltz—­”

Dutch Debby heaved a great sigh of rapture.

“And you have seen such sights!” she said in awed admiration.

“I have been in brilliant ball-rooms and moonlit conservatories,” said Esther evasively.  She did not care to rob Dutch Debby of her ideals by explaining that high life was not all passion and palm-trees.

“I am so glad,” said Debby affectionately.  “I have often wished to myself, only a make-believe wish, you know, not a real wish, if you understand what I mean, for of course I know it’s impossible.  I sometimes sit at that window before going to bed and look at the moon as it silvers the swaying clothes-props, and I can easily imagine they are great tropical palms, especially when an organ is playing round the corner.  Sometimes the moon shines straight down on Bobby’s tombstone, and then I am glad.  Ah, now you’re smiling.  I know you think me a crazy old thing.”

“Indeed, indeed, dear, I think you’re the darlingest creature in the world,” and Esther jumped up and kissed her to hide her emotion.  “But I mustn’t waste your time,” she said briskly.  “I know you have your sewing to do.  It’s too long to tell you my story now; suffice it to say (as the London Journal says) that I am going to take a lodging in the neighborhood.  Oh, dear, don’t make those great eyes!  I want to live in the East End.”

“You want to live here like a Princess in disguise.  I see.”

“No you don’t, you romantic old darling.  I want to live here like everybody else.  I’m going to earn my own living.”

“Oh, but you can never live by yourself.”

“Why not?  Now from romantic you become conventional. You’ve lived by yourself.”

“Oh, but I’m different,” said Debby, flushing.

“Nonsense, I’m just as good as you.  But if you think it improper,” here Esther had a sudden idea, “come and live with me.”

“What, be your chaperon!” cried Debby in responsive excitement; then her voice dropped again.  “Oh, no, how could I?”

“Yes, yes, you must,” said Esther eagerly.

Debby’s obstinate shake of the head repelled the idea.  “I couldn’t leave Bobby,” she said.  After a pause, she asked timidly:  “Why not stay here?”