surprise, exclaiming:

"How fortunate I am! I had completed my plans to go abroad some little
time since."

Zell clapped her hands with delight, but an involuntary shadow
darkened. Edith's face.

Gus looked nonplussed. He knew that his father and mother with
difficulty kept pace with his home expenses and that a Continental
tour was impossible for him. Mr. Goulden looked a little thoughtful,
as if a new element had entered into the problem.

"Oh, come," laughed Zell. "Let us all be good, and go on a pilgrimage
together to Paris--I mean Jerusalem."

"I will worship devoutly with you at either shrine," said Mr. Van Dam.

"And with equal sincerity, I suppose," said Edith, rather coldly.

"I sadly fear, Miss Edith, that my sincerity will not be superior to
that of the other devotees," was the keen retort, in blandest tones.

Edith bit her lip, but said gayly, "Count me out of your pilgrim band.
I want no shrine with relics of the past. I wish no incense rising
about me obscuring the view. I like the present, and wish to see what
is beyond."

"But suppose you are both shrine and divinity yourself?" said Gus,
with what he meant for a killing look.