th Miss Barbara gone so much, and with nothing
to do. She read the few books at her disposal, she paced up and down in
the two little back bedrooms that she and Miss Barbara occupied. She
took long walks alone, but the little mining town was even smaller than
Westbrooke, and she found scant material with which to fill her letters
home.

The two weeks for which she had been invited came to an end, and Judith
grew desperate over her fruitless trips to the post-office. She knew
that Miss Barbara had just made the payment that was due the Building
and Loan Association in which she was putting her little earnings, and
would be almost penniless until the end of another term. Besides, she
had accepted all that she was willing to take from the hard-worked
little music teacher.

"I have packed my trunk and am going home to-morrow, Cousin Barbara,"
she announced. "Mr. Avery's family have evidently stayed longer than
Daisy expected, and she can't have me. Maybe some of them are ill."

"Then she should have written and told you so," said Miss Barbara,
waxing so indignant over the neglect of her _protegee_ that she grew
eloquent on the subject of her hobby--punctuality, especially in
correspondence.

"I suppose you wouldn't want to write again?" she suggested.

But Judith shook her head. "Oh, no, no!" she insisted; "Daisy
understands perfectly that I can stay here only two weeks. I explained
the situation fully in my letter. I mailed it myself, and I am sure that
she received it. And I couldn't thrust myself upon her, you know. She
has probably forgotten all about her invitation by this time; this visit
doesn't mean as much to her as to me."

"But I can't bear to be disappointed after going so far," said Miss
Barbara. "She'll surely write in a few days. You'll just have to stay
another week. I can arrange for that long. The landlady wants the room
after the twenty-first for a permanent boarder, but you can't go until
then."

In spite of all Judith's protestations, Miss Barbara kept her, and never
did a week drag by so slowly. It snowed incessantly. Miss Barbara was
unusually busy. Judith took a severe cold that confined her to the
house. Her eyes ached when she attempted to read, and all she could do
was to pace up and down the room and look out of the window, or watch
the clock in feverish impatience for Miss Barbara to return with the
mail.

But not until the sixteenth, the day of the musicale, did she lose hope.
When t