best advantage as she arranged a flower in a
vase. On the heavily carved mahogany table beside her was a blue and
white India bowl filled with white roses and heliotrope and lemon
verbena. Annie inhaled the bouquet of perfume happily as she came up
the steps with Alice smiling a welcome at her. Annie had worshipped
more fervently at Margaret Edes' shrine than at Alice's and yet she
had a feeling of fuller confidence in Alice. She was about to tell
Alice about her book, not because Alice needed the comfort of her joy
but because she herself, although unknowingly, needed Alice's ready
sympathy of which she had no doubt. Her interview with Margaret had
left the child hurt and bewildered and now she came to Alice. Alice
did not rise and kiss her. Alice seldom kissed anybody but she
radiated kindly welcome.

"Sit down, little Annie," she said, "I am glad you have come. My aunt
and cousin have gone to New York and I have been alone all day. We
would have tea and cake but _I_ know the hour of your Medes and
Persians' supper approaches instead of my later dinner."

"Yes," said Annie, sitting down, "and if I were to take tea and cake
now, Alice, I could eat nothing and grandmother and my aunts are very
particular about my clearing my plate."

Alice laughed, but she looked rather solicitously at the girl. "I
know," she said, then she hesitated. She pitied little Annie Eustace
and considered her rather a victim of loving but mistaken tyranny. "I
wish," she said, "that you would stay and dine with me to-night."

Annie fairly gasped. "They expect me at home," she replied.

"I know, and I suppose if I were to send over and tell them you would
dine with me, it would not answer."

Annie looked frightened. "I fear not, Alice. You see they would have
had no time to think it over and decide."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"I have time to make you a little call and stop at the post-office
for the last mail and get home just in time for supper."

"Oh, well, you must come and dine with me a week from to-day, and I
will have a little dinner-party," said Alice. "I will invite some
nice people. We will have Mr. von Rosen for one."

Annie suddenly flushed crimson. It occurred to her that Mr. von Rosen
might walk home with her as he had done from Margaret's, and a
longing and terror at once possessed her.

Alice wondered at the blush.

"I was so sorry for poor Margaret last night," Annie said with an
abrupt change of subject.

"Yes," s