pleasant surprise before night. I thought when I saw the storm
coming that that was the surprise - I love storms, grandfather's
kind - but now I know it is this."

Every girl in the room instantly felt the charm of this child.
She was almost bewitching.

Her eyes had the same "unfathomable depths" that marked those of
Mrs. Salvey, but the child did not otherwise resemble her mother.
It was evident that the name Wren fitted her well - so small, so
sweet, so timid, and with such a whispering voice!

Then, her eyes were brown, her hair was brown and, in spite of
ill-health, there was a gleam of color in her delicate cheeks.

"What's this?" asked Cora, stepping over to the child and touching
a book in her lap.

"Oh, that - that is my story," replied Wren. "I want to tell you
all about it. Will you have time to wait?" and she looked toward
the window, through which could be seen the silent automobiles.

"Indeed, we will," replied Cora. "I am so anxious to hear all
about it, and I am sure the others are. Do tell us, Wren," and
Cora found a chair quite close to the one on wheels.

Cecilia was fairly "devouring the child." The others were plainly
much interested. Belle, who evidently regarded the affair as her
own particular "find," retained the slim hand of the invalid in
that of her own healthy palm. Mrs. Salvey was smiling now - even