rted off, while Jane,
having persuaded herself that perhaps "the surprise" was meant for her,
and that she might be welcoming two exiles instead of one the following
night, began to put Lucy's room in order and to lay out the many pretty
things she loved, especially the new dressing-gown she had made for
her, lined with blue silk--her favorite color.

All that day and evening, and far into the next afternoon, Jane went
about the house with the refrain of an old song welling up into her
heart--one that had been stifled for months. The thought of the
round-about way in which Lucy had sent for Martha did not dull its
melody. That ruse, she knew, came from the foolish pride of youth, the
pride that could not meet defeat. Underneath it she detected, with a
thrill, the love of home; this, after all, was what her sister could
not do without. It was not Bart this time. That affair, as she had
predicted and had repeatedly told Martha, had worn itself out and had
been replaced by her love of music. She had simply come to herself once
more and would again be her old-time sister and her child. Then,
too--and this sent another wave of delight tingling through her--it had
all been the doctor's doing! But for his advice she would never have
let Lucy go.

Half a dozen times, although the November afternoon was raw and chilly,
with the wind fresh from the sea and the sky dull, she was out on the
front porch without shawl or hat, looking down the path, covered now
with dead leaves, and scanning closely every team that passed the gate,
only to return again to her place by the fire, more impatient than ever.

Meg's quick ear first caught the grating of the wheels. Jane followed
him with a cry of joyous expectation, and flew to the door to meet the
stage, which for some reason--why, she could not tell--had stopped for
a moment outside the gate, dropping only one passenger, and that one
the nurse.

"And Lucy did not come, Martha!" Jane exclaimed, with almost a sob in
her voice. She had reached her side now, followed by Meg, who was
springing straight at the nurse in the joy of his welcome.

The old woman glanced back at the stage, as if afraid of being
overheard, and muttered under her breath:

"No, she couldn't come."

"Oh, I am so disappointed! Why not?"

Martha did not answer. She seemed to have lost her breath. Jane put her
arm about her and led her up the path. Once she stumbled, her step was
so unsteady, and she would have fa