elling her. There was, indeed, no need now to describe Dudley
Worthington's feelings.

When the door had closed she stoke to the window, and listened to his
footfalls in the snow until she heard them no more.

BOOK IV

CHAPTER XI

The next morning Cynthia's heart was heavy as she greeted her new
friends at Miss Sadler's school. Life had made a woman of her long ago,
while these girls had yet been in short dresses, and now an experience
had come to her which few, if any, of these could ever know. It was of
no use for her to deny to herself that she loved Bob Worthington--loved
him with the full intensity of the strong nature that was hers. To how
many of these girls would come such a love? and how many would be called
upon to make such a renunciation as hers had been? No wonder she felt
out of place among them, and once more the longing to fly away to
Coniston almost overcame her. Jethro would forgive her, she knew, and
stretch out his arms to receive her, and understand that some trouble
had driven her to him.

She was aroused by some one calling her name--some one whose voice
sounded strangely familiar. Cynthia was perhaps the only person in the
school that day who did not know that Miss Janet Duncan had entered it.
Miss Sadler certainly knew it, and asked Miss Duncan very particularly
about her father and mother and even her brother. Miss Sadler knew, even
before Janet's unexpected arrival, that Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had come to
Boston after Christmas, and had taken a large house in the Back Bay
in order to be near their son at Harvard. Mrs. Duncan was, in fact, a
Bostonian, and more at home there than at any other place.

Miss Sadler observed with a great deal of astonishment the warm embrace
that Janet bestowed on Cynthia. The occurrence started in Miss Sadler a
train of thought, as a result of which she left the drawing-room where
these reunions were held, and went into her own private study to write
a note. This she addressed to Mrs. Alexander Duncan, at a certain number
on Beacon Street, and sent it out to be posted immediately. In the
meantime, Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia,
not having for an instant ceased to talk to her. Of what use to write a
romance, when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life! Here
was the country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to
become the princess, and in four months! Janet would not have thought it
possib