as getting rather
hard to be gay. And it would be nice to have everything ready when the
party returned.

It was a quietly beautiful afternoon and as the girl went about her
simple tasks she was not unhappy. Already she was learning the great
lesson which many more fortunate lovers miss, that the rarest fragrance
of love lies in its bestowal. That is why love is of all things most
securely ours.

Once she called up to the blowing curtains of Mrs. Coombe's window.

"Mother, won't you come and help me with the flowers?" But no hand
pushed the curtain aside, nor did she receive any answer. Perhaps Mary
was really asleep. In that case she was sure to be amiable at
supper time.

Everything was daintily ready and Esther had had time to slip on her
prettiest frock when the "honk" of the returning motor brought a faint
colour into her pale cheeks.

"Dear me, you've got quite a colour, Esther," said Miss Annabel Macnair
in a slightly injured voice. She had come intending to tell Esther how
badly she was looking and to recommend a tonic.

"I don't see why you didn't come to the picnic."

"Oh, Esther," Jane's plain little face was radiant, "you missed it! It
was the nicest picnic yet. I won one race and Bubble won another, and
Ann won't speak to either of us. She says she hates her aunt because
she'd have won a race too if she hadn't had so much starch in her
petticoats. But Mrs. Sykes says she wouldn't be a mite surprised if Ann
has a bad heart--not a wicked heart, just a bad one, the kind that makes
you drop down dead. Some of Ann's folks died of bad hearts, Mrs. Sykes
says. But the doctor says it's all nonsense. He agreed with Ann that it
wasn't anything but petticoats--Oh, say! how pretty the table looks. Did
mother say you could use the best china?"

"Seeing that it's Esther's china on her own mother's side, I guess she
can use it if she likes," said Aunt Amy, mildly belligerent. "I thought
you might want to set the table before we got home, Esther, and I was so
afraid you might forget and use the sprigged tea set. But the doctor
said you'd be sure not to."

"That's one of her queer notions, I suppose?" said Miss Annabel in a
stage whisper plainly heard by every one. "How odd! Can you come
upstairs with me, Esther? I want to speak to you most particularly and I
haven't seen you for ages.

"Not that I haven't tried," she continued in her jerky way as they went
up the stairs together; "but you seem to be always wit