to-morrow.--Oh, yes; it's Palmyra, on the Canada Pacific. I suppose
you want to write to him. Or perhaps you mean to go out and offer
yourself bodily."

It was awful having to bottle up the truth in one's own heart, and
to laugh and jest like this; but I endured it somehow.

"No, it's not that," I said gravely. "I've other reasons of my own
for asking his address, Minnie. I want to go out there, it's true;
but not because I cherish the faintest pleasing recollection of Dr.
Ivor in any way."

Minnie scanned me over in surprise.

"Well, how you ARE altered, Una!" she cried. "I love you, dear, and
like you every bit as much as ever. But you've changed so much. I
don't think you're at all what you used to be. You're so grave and
sombre."

"No wonder, Minnie," I exclaimed, bursting gladly into tears--the
excuse was such a relief--"no wonder, when you think how much I've
passed through!"

Minnie flung her arms around my neck, and kissed me over and over
again.

"Oh, dear!" she cried, melting. "What have I done? What have I said?
I ought never to have spoken so. It was cruel of me--cruel, Una
dear. I shall stop here to-night, and sleep with you."