be so glad when next year comes,
and I can come back to you. I miss you dreadfully."

What she really missed was her comfort, and the little luxuries her
grandmother had surrounded her with as a matter of course. "I am going to
try to have a room to myself, I simply can't bear things as they are.
With love, your affectionate grandchild, Audrey."

Having sealed and directed her letter, Audrey rose, crept softly out of
the bedroom, and up the steep stairs to the attics. She really was going
to see about getting one for herself. If the empty one was at all
suitable she was going straight to her mother to ask if she might have it.
If it was not suitable! She did not let her mind dwell on such a
possibility, it would be too dreadful to bear--after all the hopes she had
built up.

She had shared the room with Faith and Joan for a fortnight, and she
simply could not stand it any longer. The children seemed to forget that
it was not their nursery still, and spent half their time there.
She had never been able to put out her writing-case and work-basket,
or her books and ornaments, for there was no room. Nor would she have
done so if there had been, for the children would have been always
handling them, and spoiling them all.

And now, even while she was writing, Debby had upset the water-jug all
over the floor, and Joan had danced all over the beds; and really it was
more than Audrey could endure any longer.

"I can't be expected to," she said to herself, as she mounted the attic
stairs, "anything would be better than that muddle."

The attic on the extreme left was a box-room, she knew, and the one in the
middle was the servant's room, so she opened the third door. The box-room
faced the east; the servant's room looked out over the front garden and
the road; the third one--Audrey's--looked out to the west, and down over
the village and the church, to where the hill wound up and up to the
heather-clad moor.

As she opened the door the room felt close and musty, but a flood of
sunshine poured in through the closed window, to welcome her. "Oh, how
jolly! I must have this! I must! I must! I could make a splendid room
of it."

She went over and threw up the window wide, then faced about and examined
the place more closely. "There is heaps of room, and I am sure I could
make it ever so nice. The bed could stand there, and the chest of drawers
facing the window, and--oh, I could have a real writing table by th