rls could not help feeling a little disconsolate and a little
surprised.

At supper that evening there were eager inquiries with regard to
Maggie Howland. All the girls came up to ask Aneta where the other
queen was.

"She is not quite well, and has gone to bed," said Aneta. "She does
not wish to be disturbed until the morning."

Aneta's words had a curious effect upon every one who heard her speak.
It was as though she had, for the first time in her life, absolutely
taken Maggie's part. Her eyes, when she spoke of Maggie, were full of
affection. The girls were puzzled; but Merry, as they turned away,
suddenly ran back to Aneta, swept her arm round the girl's neck, and
said, "Oh Neta, I do love you!"

Aneta pressed Merry's hand. For the first time these two understood
each other.

Meanwhile poor Maggie was living through one of the most dreadful
periods of her life. Her mother's intimation that she and her
stepfather were coming without fail to Aylmer House on Saturday--_the_
day, the glorious day when Maggie and her friends were to entertain
Mrs. Ward and the rest of the school--drove the girl nearly wild.
Aneta had discovered her secret, and Aneta had urged, as the one way
out, the painful but salutary road of confession. Maggie writhed at
the thought, but she writhed far more terribly at the news which her
mother's letter contained.

The girl said to herself, "I cannot stand it! I will run away! He has
destroyed my last chance. I will run away and hide. I will go
to-night. There is no use in waiting. Aneta is kind; she is far kinder
than I could ever have given her credit for. She would, I believe,
help me; and dear Mrs. Ward would help me--I am sure of that. And I
don't really mind now that it comes to the point of losing my position
in the school as queen; but for all the school--for the Tristrams, for
Merry Cardew, for Kathleen--to see that man is beyond my power of
endurance. He will call here, and he will bring poor mother, but as I
won't be here I won't feel anything. I will go to-night. I'll slip
downstairs and let myself out. I have some money--thank goodness for
that!--and I have my father's treasures. I can take them out of the
tin box and wear them on my person, and I can sell them one by one.
Yes, I will run away. There's no help for it."

Maggie, at Aneta's suggestion, had got into bed, but even to think of
sleep was beyond her power. She got up again presently, dressed, and
sat by the foggy wi