hat you did not send the ring when it was
too late; but it is odd about the letter."

"No, I didn't send the ring," said Annie in a light voice. "How could
I?"

"Certainly not, dear, if you did not know that I wanted it."

"Hester was surprised this morning," continued Molly, taking up the
thread of the narrative, and unconsciously giving Annie immense
assistance. "You said, in your letter to her, that you had told Annie a
week ago that you were coming. Then Annie said that she had never got
your letter."

"It is very queer," said Mrs. Willis. "I must write to the post office
in Paris and make inquiries. Well, I am glad the ring is safe."

"Of course, it is as safe as possible," said Annie. "It is too bad about
the letter," she continued. "Did you want the ring very badly?"

"Yes, very badly; but it is not too late yet to manage matters. I want
to have the ring copied as a wedding present for Margaret Cecil, but I
have already spoken to a jeweller about it, and if I send him the ring
to-day or to-morrow he will have it in time. Don't forget to give it to
me, Annie, dear, when we get home."

"Oh, no," said Annie, "I won't forget."

A few moments later they arrived at the Grange, where Mrs. Willis was
received with a kind of trembling joy by Hester, who took her into the
house and showered every imaginable attention which her love could
suggest upon her.

"Time, time," muttered Annie to herself as she rushed away. "Something
must happen between now and to-morrow. I'll keep out of her way to-day,
and in the fuss and excitement she'll forget about the ring. I have told
one big lie about it, and I have insinuated a dozen more, and I vow and
declare one thing--that I will not be discovered now. I'll go on to the
bitter end now, come what will. Heigh-ho, is that you, Nan? What are you
doing? Don't you know that Mrs. Willis has come? What is that you have
in your hand?"

"It's a letter of yours," said Nan; "I found it in the garden under a
rose bush; it's in Mrs. Willis's handwriting; didn't you say that you did
not hear from her last week?"

"No more I did; give me that letter; it's quite an old one." Annie
stretched out her hand, snatched the letter from Nan, and pushed it into
her pocket.

"You didn't read it?" she asked.

"No, I'm not so mean; what is the matter with you?"

"I hate to have my letters read."

"They're not read by girls like me; you needn't be afraid."

Nan rushed off in a huff, and Annie