ve
for this poor little Effie. Still, after being nearly two months with
the child, she was relieved when Felicia Hempstead came, the first of
September, and wished to take Effie home with her. She had not gone to
Europe, after all, but to the mountains, and upon her return had missed
the little girl.

Effie went willingly enough, but Annie discovered that she too missed
her. Now loneliness had her fairly in its grip. She had a telephone
installed, and gave her orders over that. Sometimes the sound of a
human voice made her emotional to tears. Besides the voices over the
telephone, Annie had nobody, for Benny returned to college soon after
Effie left. Benny had been in the habit of coming in to see Annie, and
she had not had the heart to check him. She talked to him very little,
and knew that he was no telltale as far as she was concerned, although
he waxed most communicative with regard to the others. A few days before
he left he came over and begged her to return.

"I know the girls have nagged you till you are fairly worn out," he
said. "I know they don't tell things straight, but I don't believe they
know it, and I don't see why you can't come home, and insist upon your
rights, and not work so hard."

"If I come home now it will be as it was before," said Annie.

"Can't you stand up for yourself and not have it the same?"

Annie shook her head.

"Seems as if you could," said Benny. "I always thought a girl knew how
to manage other girls. It is rather awful the way things go now over
there. Father must be uncomfortable enough trying to eat the stuff they
set before him and living in such a dirty house."

Annie winced. "Is it so very dirty?"

Benny whistled.

"Is the food so bad?"

Benny whistled again.

"You advised me--or it amounted to the same thing--to take this stand,"
said Annie.

"I know I did, but I didn't know how bad it would be. Guess I didn't
half appreciate you myself, Annie. Well, you must do as you think best,
but if you could look in over there your heart would ache."

"My heart aches as it is," said Annie, sadly.

Benny put an arm around her. "Poor girl!" he said. "It is a shame, but
you are going to marry Tom. You ought not to have the heartache."

"Marriage isn't everything," said Annie, "and my heart does ache, but--I
can't go back there, unless--I can't make it clear to you, Benny, but
it seems to me as if I couldn't go back there until the year is up, or
I shouldn't be myself