ed to. Do you think it's
all worth while?"

"Worth while! Why, Daniel Dott!"

"There, there! don't take on. I guess it is. I suppose you know best
about such things. But I get kind of blue settin' around here thinkin',
without you to talk to; and Gertie isn't here. You see, I miss you
both."

"Yes, I suppose you do. Well, after this convention is over I shall have
a little more time, I hope. And Gertie will be home pretty soon. It's
almost time for her Christmas vacation."

"Yes, I know it is. I was thinkin' that to-day. My! we'll be glad to see
her, won't we?"

"Of course we will. But, do you know, Daniel, I've been so busy that I
almost forgot about Christmas and Gertie's vacation and everything. It
was Cousin Percy that reminded me of it."

"Reminded you of what?--of Christmas?"

"No, of course not--of Gertie's vacation. He said that she was coming
and that he should be glad to make her acquaintance."

"HE said so? How did he know? _I_ never told him."

"I don't remember that I did, either. But I suppose I must have. Anyhow,
he knew. He is very much interested in Gertie and how she was getting on
at college and all that. I saw him looking at her photograph that very
day of the reception. He knew that it was she, without being told."

"Humph! He seems to know a lot. But, there! I recollect now--Gertie said
she met him at college. Well, Serena, I won't complain any more. You can
go to Atterbury if you want to. I'll get along all right."

And to Atterbury Mrs. Dott went. It was the first time since the old
sea-going days that Captain Dan and his wife had been separated longer
than twenty-four hours. He saw her off on the train and then moped
drearily back to Aunt Lavinia's mansion, which he was now beginning to
hate, and, seating himself in the library, tried to find interest in a
novel. He did not find it, however, and went to bed early. Cousin Percy,
who was out that evening, did not retire early. Next morning he seemed
to have little appetite for breakfast, and was less agreeable than
usual.

The three days passed somehow. The wanderer was to return on Thursday
morning, but she did not. Instead came a telegram, reading as follows:

"Meeting and paper great success. Send immediately one of my latest
photographs. Serena."

The puzzled Daniel sent the photograph preceded by a telegram of his own
which read:

"When are you coming home? Why don't you write? Have been worried about
you. Answer."