ittle surprise that she had not paid more attention
when this young man, who looked at her so kindly, called. Then came
one of her sudden laughs.

"What is it?" asked Von Rosen.

"Oh, nothing, except that the cat is usually there too," replied
Annie. Von Rosen looked back boyishly.

"Be sure I shall see you next time and hang the cat," he said.

When Annie was in her room unclasping her corals, she considered how
very much mortified and troubled her friend, Margaret Edes, must
feel. She recalled how hideous it had all been--that appearance of
the Western girl in the dining-room door-way, her rude ways, her
flushed angry face. Annie did not dream of blaming Margaret. She was
almost a fanatic as far as loyalty to her friends was concerned. She
loved Margaret and she had only a feeling of cold dislike and
disapprobation toward Miss Wallingford who had hurt Margaret. As for
that charge of "trapping," she paid no heed to it whatever. She made
up her mind to go and see Margaret the very next day and tell her a
secret, a very great secret, which she was sure would comfort her and
make ample amends to her for all her distress of the night before.
Little Annie Eustace was so very innocent and ignorant of the ways of
the world that had her nearest and dearest been able to look into her
heart of hearts, they might have been appalled, incredulous and
reverent, according to their natures. For instance, this very good,
simple young girl who had been born with the light of genius always
assumed that her friends would be as delighted at any good fortune of
hers as at their own. She fairly fed upon her admiration of Alice
Mendon that evening when she had stepped so nobly and tactfully into
the rather frightful social breach and saved, if not wholly, the
situation.

"Alice was such a dear," she thought, and the thought made her face
fairly angelic. Then she recalled how lovely Alice had looked, and
her own mobile face took on unconsciously Alice's expression.
Standing before her looking-glass brushing out her hair, she saw
reflected, not her own beautiful face between the lustrous folds, but
Alice's. Then she recalled with pride Margaret's imperturbability
under such a trial. "Nobody but Margaret could have carried off such
an insult under her own roof too," she thought.

After she was in bed and her lamp blown out and the white moon-beams
were entering her open windows like angels, she, after saying her
prayers, thought of the t