one of "the choir invisible" had made of her life, by her
purpose to "ease the burden of the world"--"to live in scorn of
miserable aims that end with self."

Now like an audible reply to her question the eyes of the portrait
seemed to repeat that last sentence to her: "_To live in scorn of
miserable aims that end with self!_"

For a moment she stood irresolute, then dropping the lid on the rose-jar
again, she crossed over into the next room and sat down beside the
library table. It was no easy task to write the note she had decided to
send. Five different times she got half-way through, tore the page in
two and tossed it into the waste-basket. Each attempt seemed so stiff
and formal that she was disgusted with it. Nearly an hour passed in the
effort. She could not write the real reason for breaking her engagement
for the ride, and she could not express too much regret, or he would
make other occasions she would have to refuse, if she followed out the
course she had decided upon, to give Bernice no further occasion for
jealousy. It was the most difficult piece of composition she had ever
attempted, and she was far from pleased with the stiff little note which
she finally slipped into its envelope.

"It will have to do," she sighed, wearily, "but I know he will think I
am snippy and rude, and I can't beah for him to have that opinion of
me."

In the very act of sealing the envelope she hesitated again with Katie's
words repeating themselves in her ears: "It's more than she would do
for you, if you were in her place."

While she hesitated there came a familiar whistle from somewhere in the
back of the house. She gave the old call in answer, and the next moment
Rob came through the dining-room into the hall, and paused in the
library door.

"I've made my farewells to the rest of the family," he announced,
abruptly. "I met Betty and Mary down in the orchard as I cut across lots
from home. Now I've got about five minutes to devote to the last sad
rites with you."

"Yes, we're going on the next train," he answered, when her amazed
question stopped him. "The family sprung the surprise on me just a
little while ago. It seems the doctor thought grandfather ought to go at
once, so they've hurried up arrangements, and we'll be off in a few
hours, two days ahead of the date they first set."

Startled by the abruptness of his announcement, Lloyd almost dropped the
hot sealing-wax on her fingers instead of the envelope. His