e was glad if she had been able, in the least degree,
to return to Aunt Barbara any of the love and tenderness that the latter
had lavished upon her for more than fourteen years. The debt was still
so great, it seemed impossible ever to pay it back.

Once the fever had left her, Miss Sherbourne made rapid progress, and by
the twelfth of May she was able to come downstairs for the first time.
Dorothy made the little dining-room so gay with flowers for her
reception that it looked like a May Day festival.

"Why, sweetheart, this is the day of your school anniversary," said Aunt
Barbara, as she and Dorothy sat at tea. "You ought to have been acting
'Queen of the Daffodils'."

"Don't talk of that, Auntie! I got Vera to take it instead."

Dorothy's eyes were full of tears.

"I'm sorry you were disappointed, darling."

"Auntie, it's not that; please don't misunderstand me. Ever since you
were ill I've wanted to tell you that I know now what a nasty,
ungrateful wretch I've been. You've been working and toiling for me all
these years, and I took it just as a matter of course, and never
thought how much you were giving up for me. I'm going to work for you
now. I'm afraid I can't do much at first--with money, I mean--but I'll
try my hardest at the Coll., and perhaps in a year or two I may be a
help instead of a burden."

"A burden you have never been, child," said Miss Sherbourne. "If I had
only got well a little sooner, we would have made you the costume. I
sent the articles off the afternoon I was taken ill, and a cheque for
them came a week ago."

"Then you must spend it on yourself, please. No, I'm glad the daffodil
dress wasn't made. I should always have hated myself for having it."

"But you've missed the whole festival," regretted Aunt Barbara.

"Never mind, it's May Day here as well as at Avondale. Look at the lilac
and the columbines, and this bowl of wallflowers! The air is so sweet
and soft now, and there's a thrush's nest in the garden. All the harsh
winds and the cold seem to be gone, and summer has come."

"Yes, summer has indeed come," said Aunt Barbara, gazing, not at the
flowers, but at Dorothy's face, where a new, softened look had replaced
the old frown of discontent.

CHAPTER XIV

Water Plantain

Dorothy returned to Avondale resolved to work doubly hard. There was
certainly plenty to be done if she did not wish to fall behind in her
Form. She had missed many of the lessons, and to reco