granddaughter, and yet she had really loved her enough to want her to
live there.

Then Grandma Maynard wouldn't have to _pretend_ to love her.

Clearly, that was the only thing to do. She couldn't run away, with no
destination in view.

She had no claim on Grandma Sherwood or Uncle Steve, but Grandma Maynard
_had_ wanted her,--really _wanted_ her.

Marjorie looked at the little clock on her dressing table. It was almost
three o'clock. She knew there was a train to New York about three, and
she resolved to go on it.

At first she thought of taking some things in a bag, but she decided not
to, as she didn't want any of the things the Maynards had given her.

"Oh," she thought, while the tears came afresh; "my name isn't even
Maynard! I don't know _what_ it is!"

She put on a blue linen dress, and a blue hat with roses on it. Some
instinct of sadness made her tie her hair with black ribbon.

As she went downstairs, she heard Mrs. Corey say, "I am astounded at
these revelations!" and her mother replied, "Dear friend, I knew you
would be."

Marjorie wasn't crying then, she felt as if she had no tears left. She
shut her teeth together hard, and went out by a side door. This way she