s Nevins and wouldn't it be a good thing to
refer curious people to Mrs. Barrington?"

Marguerite glanced up with a half smile.

"We have to pay the penalty for any unusual happenings," said their
father. "I think I should feel interested if this had occurred in the
home of a neighbor. So we will not set it down to idle curiosity. Even
_I_ had to be convinced that it was not mere hearsay."

As they were leaving the room Miss Crawford said in a low tone,
"Margaret--don't you need some shopping or planning done?"

"Thank you, Kate. You have been a true sister all these years. I took
Marguerite and some material to Madame Blauvelt this morning. She
thought that green cloth would make a very becoming suit and the
lavender grey. They will not go out much this winter now that the
holidays are over, and they are too young."

Miss Crawford only said, "Oh, very well."

The mother had a half guilty feeling as if she had unduly asserted
herself, yet she was inexpressibly happy.

There were calls in the afternoon and Zaidee sat alone in her room
leaning her chin on her hand and glancing out of the window.

In a way she had been the family heroine.

The twin sister who might have been so dear had been wrenched out of her
life. She had thought of her, dreamed of her, although she had been well
content to fill the place of an only daughter with this faint shadow of
sorrow hanging over her; and suddenly, she had been uprooted, flung
aside as it were, and another had stepped into her place. She did not
like it. If it had been from the beginning! If it had come about some
other way. If someone had sent from that Western town. Would the girls
who had held themselves above the Boyd connection feel mortified at many
of the comments they had made? She was glad she had held up some
supposititious cases; though, truth to tell, Zaidee felt too secure of
her own standing to need any propping, and there was a strand of
independence in her character, but she had been first all her life and
in a curious fashion she would lose that eminence.

Of course, in time she would love Marguerite. One could not do it in a
moment. That was the salve she was applying to her conscience. When they
had known each other for months, learned and respected each others'
peculiarities, love would come. She had not felt inclined to fling
herself in Lilian Boyd's arms, and she had almost doubted at first. So
had Aunt Kate.

Zaidee would have scouted the thoug