nusual degree to prevent
her guests from feeling uncomfortable; the superstition rankled.

As they took leave, Thorne held her hand in a warmer clasp than he had
ever before ventured on, and his voice was really troubled as he said:

"I can't tell you how worried I am about your beautiful cup. I never
had a small accident trouble me to the same extent before. I feel as
though a serious calamity had befallen. There was no tradition, no
association, I hope, which made the cup of special value, beyond its
beauty, and the fact of its being an heirloom."

Pocahontas was too truthful for evasion.

"There were associations of course," she answered gently, "with that
cup as well as with the rest of the china. It has been in the family
so many generations, you know. Don't reproach yourself any more,
please--remember 'twas as much my fault as yours. And broken things
need not remain so," with an upward glance and a bright smile, "they
can be mended. I shall have the cup riveted."

She would not tell him of the superstition; there was no use in making
him feel worse about the accident than he felt already. She did not
wish him to be uncomfortable, and had gladly assumed an equal share of
blame. It was extremely silly in her to allow her mind to dwell on a
foolish old tradition. How could the breakage of a bit of china, no
matter how precious, presage misfortune? It was ill doing that
entailed ill fortune, not blind chance, or heathen fate. She would
think no more of foolish old portents.

Still!--she wished the cup had not been broken--wished with all her
heart that it had not been _that_ cup.

CHAPTER VIII.

Blanche Smith was not at all a clever girl--not like Norma. Norma had
always stood first in her classes, had borne off prizes and medals, but
with Blanche it was otherwise. No amount of coaching ever sufficed to
pull her through ah examination, or to remove her from the middle of
her class. Blanche was a dunce confessedly; she hated books, and the
acquisition of knowledge by labor. If people told her things and took
the trouble to explain them, she remembered them sometimes; sometimes
not. To accomplishments she took as a duck to water--danced
beautifully, was a fair musician, sang with taste and sweetness, and
chattered French with absolute self-confidence and a tolerable accent,
although her rudimentary knowledge of the tongue was of the vaguest.

At school she had been more popular than her