"Why, Edna Conway, what in the world brought you over here by yourself?" was Miss Newman's surprised greeting. "Why, the child is drenched to the skin. Come right in to the fire." She ushered her into the tiny living-room where a cheerful fire was blazing on the hearth. Before this Miss Eloise was sitting. "It is Edna, Ellie," said her sister, "and the child is soaking wet. My dear child, why did you come out in this fog wearing that flimsy gingham? And no rubbers, no coat? What were you thinking of?"