don't, there'll be an uprising of my ancestors. Good-by."

She went as suddenly as she had come. It was as though a wild sea-bird
had swept through the room, leaving us startled, but refreshed.

From the shadows near the door came Page Hanaford's half-humorous query,
"Do these visions have a habit of appearing in your doorway, Miss
Jenkins, or how much of what I saw was real?"

"Zura Wingate is the realest girl I know, Mr. Hanaford." He listened
intently to the short history of the girl I gave him, made no comment,
asked no questions, but said good-night very gently and went out into
the dusk.

Jane stood looking into the fire. Tightly clasping her hands across her
thin chest and closing her eyes, she murmured delightedly, "Oh, the
sweet darlings!"

I did not ask whether she referred to our late visitors or something in
her menagerie.

I was in a whirl of thought myself. I had lost a pupil; my purse was
leaner than ever, my responsibilities heavier; yet intangible joys were
storming my old heart, and it was athrill with visions of youth and hope
and love, although I saw them through windows doubly barred and locked.




V