been having a good visit with Miss Barbara. You know my unfortunate
way of doing things, and I'm sure you'll forgive me, like the
darling you always were.

"We shall look for you to-morrow on the six o'clock train. Don't
disappoint us, for we both shall be at the station to meet you.

"Devotedly,
"MARGUERITE."


Judith read the letter aloud to the girls and then dropped it in the
fire, watching it without a word, as it curled up in the flame. How
long she had waited for that careless little letter! How anxiously she
had hoped for it! A few days sooner it would have brought untold
happiness. Now it was only a hollow mockery. Well, it was all over now.
Her hopes were in ashes like the letter. How high they had burned! And
the little evening gown she had taken such pleasure in making--there
would never be any occasion fit for its wearing in Westbrooke. She might
as well fold it away. The letter had come too late. And she was asked to
forgive it--the disappointment that would sting all her life
long--simply because it was Daisy's way.

The silence was growing uncomfortable. Amy kept casting frightened
glances at her sister's white, tense face. "Oh, dear," she sighed,
finally, "if this had only been in a story it wouldn't have ended so
dreadfully. Something nice would have happened just at the last minute
to make up for the disappointment."

"But it isn't in a story," said Judith, slowly, rising to leave the