be
a tonic.

"Does not all this sound admirably lucid and sensible? I want you to see
that I am not losing my hold--that I have finally faced down the problem
of the future. And there is one thing that has come to me out of all
this, a wonderful thing; I have forgotten Fear. It seems to me that all
my life I have lived in fear. Now I am not afraid...."

It was when Bubble was entering the post office for the purpose of
posting this letter that he met Miss Milligan, coming out. Miss Milligan
was evidently in a hurry, so great a hurry that she had not time to
question Bubble upon affairs in general as was her usual custom. Instead
she asked him to do something for her. It was a trifling service, only
to deliver to Mrs. Coombe a small postal packet which she held in
her hand.

"It will only take you a few moments, Zerubbabel," she said. "I was
going to deliver it myself but Mrs. Stanton wants a fitting right away.
I ought not to have come down to the post at all. But I promised Mrs.
Coombe--does Dr. Callandar permit you to run messages in your
spare time?"

"Sure," declared the youth, "only I don't get much spare time. The
doctor's terrible busy. Since we got the phone in, it's ringing all the
time! But I guess I can slip over to Mrs. Coombe's or if I see Jane I
can give the parcel to her."

"No!" Miss Milligan seemed struck with a sudden hesitancy. "You must
not give it to Jane, you must give it to Mrs. Coombe. Dear me, I believe
I had better take it myself."

Without listening to the boy's polite protests she hurried off again.
Bubble gazed after her with relieved astonishment.

"Guess it must be something for the wedding," declared he, sapiently.

CHAPTER XXXI

The next day was the day of the Presbyterian Sunday school picnic. It
was bound to be beautiful weather, because it always was. The
Presbyterians seemed to have an understanding with Providence to that
effect. But Jane, who must have been born a sceptic, was up very early
just to see that there was no mistake.

There was a hint, just a hint, of autumn in the air. On the window-sill
lay a golden leaf. It was the forerunner. The garden lay quiet,
brooding; the rising sun shone softly through a yellow haze.

Jane shivered deliciously in her thin night gown. It was going to be a
perfectly glorious, scrumptious day. She leaned farther out to make sure
that the leaves of the small silver maple beneath her window were not
turned wrong side up--a s