heard a secret for months."

"Guess what it is."

"Is it an engagement?"

"Yes."

"Whose?"

"Guess."

"I can't. You must tell me immediately. I am dying to know," answered
Marion, brightening considerably.

"It is mine."

"You horrid creature," said Marion, sitting up and hurling one of the
sofa cushions at Florence.

"That is a novel way to treat a friend at such a time," Florence said as
she dodged the pillow.

"You are an awful girl not to tell me before. How could you be in the
house since yesterday and not say anything? I suppose Harold Wainwright
is the man, but I don't much care who he is. You are a provoking
creature," and she emphasized her remarks by throwing another cushion
which hit wide of the mark, and sent some books spinning off the library
table onto the floor.

Marion was over her depression now, and, jumping up, she threw her arms
about Florence and kissed her, saying: "Sit down, dear, and tell me all
about it. When did it happen? When is it going to be announced? When are
you going to be married? I always felt you would marry him. Who are you
going to have for bridesmaids?"

Florence laughed at Marion's multitude of questions. "You dear girl,"
she said, kissing her, "I am glad I made you smile again; but I can
answer only one of those questions. It happened last Sunday at
Fairville."

"And you didn't tell me until now! O, I will pay you up for this. But
come, let's talk it all over and decide about the wedding and the
bridesmaids."

A servant entered the room and announced "Dr. Maccanfrae." Marion and
Florence hurriedly assumed different positions and adjusted their
ruffled hair. Then the kind face of the philanthropic physician appeared
in the doorway.

"How do I find my patient this morning?" said the Doctor, coming toward
the window where they were seated.

"Better, I hope," said Florence, turning round.

"Miss Moreland!" exclaimed the Doctor in astonishment. "I thought you
were somewhere in the White Mountains."

"No; I came back yesterday," she continued as he shook her hand. "I
thought you needed a nurse for your patient."

"Nurse and remedy combined, for you are the best cure I could prescribe
for Mrs. Sanderson."

"You are very flattering, Doctor. Under your advice I shall try to do my
best, but, if you will excuse me, I shall run away and do some
unpacking." Saying this, Florence left her seat, and, bidding the Doctor
good-by, walked toward the door. As she was