d herself now. She must not be slow to play her part in this new
game that had been originated all for her.

The half-hour up, she slipped from the bed and began unbuttoning her
blue-print frock. Being company, it stood to reason she must dress for
supper. But first, she must find out what was in the upper drawer.

The first glimpse of the little shell box, told her that. There were
tears in Hilary's gray eyes, as she stood slipping the gold beads
slowly through her fingers. How good everyone was to her; for the
first time some understanding of the bright side even of sickness--and
she had not been really sick, only run-down--and, yes, she had been
cross and horrid, lots of times--came to her.

"I'll go over just as soon as I can and thank her," the girl thought,
clasping the beads about her neck, "and I'll keep them always and
always."

A little later, she came down-stairs all in white, a spray of the pink
and white wild roses in her belt, her soft, fair hair freshly brushed
and braided. She had been rather neglectful of her hair lately.

There was no one on the front piazza but her father, and he looked up
from his book with a smile of pleasure. "My dear, how well you are
looking! It is certainly good to see you at home again, and quite your
old self."

Hilary came to sit on the arm of his chair. "It is good to be at home
again. I suppose you know all the wonderful surprises I found waiting
me?"

"Supper's ready," Patience proclaimed from the doorway. "Please come,
because--" she caught herself up, putting a hand into Hilary's, "I'll
show you where to sit, Miss Shaw."

Hilary laughed. "How old are you, my dear?" she asked, in the tone
frequently used by visiting ministers.

"I'm a good deal older than I'm treated generally," Patience answered.
"Do you like Winton?"

"I am sure I shall like it very much." Hilary slipped into the chair
Patience drew forward politely. "The company side of the table--sure
enough," she laughed.

"It isn't proper to say things to yourself sort of low down in your
voice," Patience reproved her, then at a warning glance from her mother
subsided into silence as the minister took his place.

For to-night, at least, Miranda had amply fulfilled Patience's hopes,
as to company suppers. And she, too, played her part in the new game,
calling Hilary "Miss," and never by any chance intimating that she had
seen her before.

"Did you go over to the manor to see Shirley?"