s before she's able
to walk. Uncle David says it's a miracle she wasn't killed. I'm glad I
didn't go--and yet" (rather wistfully) "I don't suppose I shall ever
have the opportunity of a real adventure again. It must have been so
exciting!"

"It's nicer to read about adventures than to have them," said Dorothy.
"It wasn't thrilling at all at the time--it was cold and wet and horrid.
I'm delighted to have seen the cave, but I wouldn't go through last
night again--not if anyone offered me a hundred pounds!"

CHAPTER XIII

A School Anniversary

Dorothy returned to Hurford with a whole world of new experiences to
relate to Aunt Barbara. The visit to Ringborough had indeed been an
immense enjoyment, and after so much excitement it was difficult to
settle down to the round of school and lessons. With some natures change
is a tonic that sets them once more in tune with their everyday
surroundings; but with others it only rouses desires for what they
cannot get. Unfortunately it had this effect in Dorothy's case. Her
pleasant time at the Hydropathic, the amusements there, and her
companionship with other young people, which she had so much
appreciated, all combined to bring out into sharp contrast the quietness
and uneventfulness of her ordinary existence, and to make her life at
Holly Cottage seem dull and monotonous. The old cloud settled down upon
her, and the old discontented look crept back into her eyes.

Aunt Barbara, who had hoped the holiday would cheer her up, was frankly
disappointed. She was uneasy and anxious about Dorothy; she felt that
some undesirable element was working in the girl's mind, yet she could
not define exactly of what it consisted. It was a negative rather than a
positive quality, and manifested itself more in acts of omission than
those of commission. Dorothy was rarely disagreeable at home, but she
had lately slidden out of many of the little pettings and fond, loving
ways that had meant so much to Aunt Barbara, and her manner had grown
somewhat hard and uncompromising. Small things count for so much in
daily life, and Dorothy, absorbed in her own troubles, never thought
what value might be set on a kiss, or what the lack of it might seem to
that tender heart which had made her happiness its own.

At present she was engrossed in Avondale concerns, for the coming term
was the fullest and busiest in the school year. Not only was there the
work of her own form to be considered, but the