three desolate years!"

"They may be more desolate for us than for him. But it was his choice."

He entered the room just then. Had Marguerite found any special
entertainment? What had Zay been doing?

"Oh, writing letters. Marguerite be glad you have not forty dear friends
who are crying write, write all the time."

No there was only one person she had written to. That was Sally Weeks at
Laconia, and if Sally answered--well, she was lame on spelling, if she
had a good generous heart.

Zay and her aunt had done something beside writing and mending the party
frock. They had discussed Marguerite.

"Well," Aunt Kate had said with a long and rather unwilling accent, "she
might have been worse. Her table manners are passable. I do suppose she
has picked up a good deal at Mrs. Barrington's. But she has a rather
uncertain air, and we shall have to hunt her up some clothes. I must
talk to your mother about it."

"Oh, dear, what a fuss there will be at school; I wish it was all over!
I do wonder what Louie Howe will say! We had some talks--well, I could
see how some of the girls felt."

"I think that was very natural. I suppose she _was_ presuming."

"No, she wasn't," returned Zay with heightened color. "I want to be
fair to her for she _is_ my sister. I think I'd rather be an only
daughter, but father will be just as fond of me, I am sure. I don't know
about the boys; but then Vincent won't be home until next summer. I
suppose we'll all go to West Point. Of course, I couldn't well have
stayed with mother this afternoon, so I don't mind her being there--"

"Zay you are very generous and unsuspecting. I should be sorry to have
any influence undermine your love. You have been all to your mother."

"But I can't be all now, I see that. Still I'll have you, aunt Kate, and
I won't give up my place in her heart. Oh, trust me to keep that."

Aunt Kate was anxious for her favorite and though she did not mean to be
ungenerous, she could not so cordially rejoice. If the girl had been
awkward or underbred, she could have taken her in hand with a good
grace. But she was not likely to ask anything of her.

Dinner was a rather more elaborate meal. It did seen odd to wait for
some one to help to the smallest thing and she wondered how Mrs. Boyd
would feel to have some one standing at her back and anticipating her
wishes before they were hardly formulated. But there was a certain
dignity and pleasure in it with no jar or awkwardne