or in trouble. If
anything is wrong, do not hesitate to tell us, for we are your
friends, as always. Doctor Brinkerhoff, Herr Kaufmann, or I
would be glad to do anything to make you happier, or more
comfortable. I will come, if you say so, or either of the
other two.

"We are all well and happy here, but we miss you. Won't you
come back to us, if only for a little while? The old house is
desolate without you, and it is your home as much as it is
mine. You left the emerald and the other little keepsakes.
Shall I send them to you, or will you come for them? In any
event, please write me a line to tell me that all is well with
you, or, if not, how I can help you.

"Very affectionately yours,
"MARGARET IRVING."

And never a word about Lynn! Only that "all" were well and happy, which,
of course, included Lynn, and went far to prove to Iris that she was
right--that he had no heart.

It was different in the books. When a beloved woman went away, the
hero's heart invariably broke, and here was Lynn, "well and happy." Iris
put the letter aside with a gesture of disdain.

Yet the motherly tone of it had touched her more deeply than she knew,
and accentuated her loneliness. Twice she tried to answer it, to tell
Mrs. Irving that she, too, was well and happy, and ask her to send the
emerald, the lace, and the fan. Twice she gave it up, for the page was
sadly blotted with her tears.

Then she determined to write the next day, and ask also for the box of
papers in the attic. Yet would she want Mrs. Irving to see the documents
meant for her eyes alone, and that pathetic little mother in the tawdry
stage trappings? Surely not! She did not question Margaret's sense of
honour, but there were many boxes in the trunk in the attic, and she
would have to open them one after another, until she was sure she had
found the right one.

Sorely puzzled, desperately homesick, and very lonely, Iris sobbed
herself to sleep. All night she dreamed of East Lancaster, where the sky
came down close to the ground, instead of ending at an ugly line of
roofs. The soft winds came through her window, sweet with clover and
apple bloom. Doctor Brinkerhoff and the Master, Fraeulein Fredrika, Aunt
Peace, Mrs. Irving, and Lynn--always Lynn--moved in and out of the
dream. When she woke, she felt her desolation more keenly than ever
before.

At the door