hree, Margaret, Alice, and Karl von Rosen.
Then suddenly a warm thrill passed over her long slender body but it
seemed to have its starting point in her soul. She saw very
distinctly the young man's dark handsome face, but she thought, "How
absurd of me, to see him so distinctly, as distinctly as I see
Margaret and Alice, when I love them so much, and I scarcely know Mr.
von Rosen." Being brought up by one's imperious grandmother and two
imperious aunts and being oneself naturally of an obedient
disposition and of a slowly maturing temperament, tends to lengthen
the long childhood of a girl. Annie was almost inconceivably a child,
much more of a child than Maida or Adelaide Edes. They had been
allowed to grow like weeds as far as their imagination was concerned,
and she had been religiously pruned.

The next afternoon she put on her white barred muslin and obtained
her Aunt Harriet's permission to spend an hour or two with Margaret
if she would work assiduously on her daisy centre piece, and stepped
like a white dove across the shady village street. Annie, unless she
remembered to do otherwise, was prone to toe in slightly with her
slender feet. She was also prone to allow the tail of her white gown
to trail. She gathered it up only when her Aunt called after her. She
found Margaret lying indolently in the hammock which was strung
across the wide shaded verandah. She was quite alone. Annie had seen
with relief Miss Martha Wallingford being driven to the station that
morning and the express following with her little trunk. Margaret
greeted Annie a bit stiffly but the girl did not notice it. She was
so full of her ignorant little plan to solace her friend with her own
joy. Poor Annie did not understand that it requires a nature seldom
met upon this earth, to be solaced, under disappointment and failure,
by another's joy. Annie had made up her mind to say very little to
Margaret about what had happened the evening before. Only at first,
she remarked upon the beauty of the dinner, then she said quite
casually, "Dear Margaret, we were all so sorry for poor Miss
Wallingford's strange conduct."

"It really did not matter in the least," replied Margaret coldly. "I
shall never invite her again."

"I am sure nobody can blame you," said Annie warmly. "I don't want to
say harsh things, you know that, Margaret, but that poor girl, in
spite of her great talent, cannot have had the advantage of good
home-training."

"Oh, she is