everything that has happened while we've been away--EVERYTHING--
who has got born, or married, or drunk; who has died, or gone
away, or come, or fought, or lost a cow, or found a beau. It's
so delightful to be home again with all the dear Glen folks, and
I want to know all about them. Why, I remember wondering, as I
walked through Westminster Abbey which of her two especial beaux
Millicent Drew would finally marry. Do you know, Susan, I have a
dreadful suspicion that I love gossip."

"Well, of course, Mrs. Dr. dear," admitted Susan, "every proper
woman likes to hear the news. I am rather interested in
Millicent Drew's case myself. I never had a beau, much less two,
and I do not mind now, for being an old maid does not hurt when
you get used to it. Millicent's hair always looks to me as if
she had swept it up with a broom. But the men do not seem to
mind that."

"They see only her pretty, piquant, mocking, little face, Susan."

"That may very well be, Mrs. Dr. dear. The Good Book says that
favour is deceitful and beauty is vain, but I should not have
minded finding that out for myself, if it had been so ordained.
I have no doubt we will all be beautiful when we are angels, but
what good will it do us then? Speaking of gossip, however, they
do say that poor Mrs. Harrison Miller over harbour tried to hang
herself last week."

"Oh, Susan!"

"Calm yourself, Mrs. Dr. dear. She did not succeed. But I