t
Christmas away from home, you know."

"I suppose your family will miss you as much as you miss them," Mrs.
Randolph said, sympathetically.

"Yes, I know they will, and that is one of the hardest things to bear. I
had a letter from Undine to-day, and she says they are all very sad,
though they are trying hard to be brave and cheerful."

"Who is Undine?"

"Oh, haven't I told you about her? She's a girl who lives at the ranch,
and we call her Undine, but it isn't her real name."

Mrs. Randolph looked interested.

"What is her real name?" she asked, anxious to cheer Marjorie by talking
of home and friends.

Marjorie opened her lips to explain, but suddenly remembered something
Beverly had told her. It would be scarcely possible to tell Undine's
story without mentioning the fatal subject of the earthquake, so she
only said:

"We don't know her real name, but the people she lived with before she
came to the ranch called her Sally. She didn't like Sally, and asked us
to call her something else, and I suggested Undine."

Mrs. Randolph laughed. "A rather romantic name for a flesh and blood
girl," she said; "how old is your Undine?"

"About fifteen, we think, but we are not sure, and she doesn't know
herself. Lulu Bell says you have a beautiful home in Virginia. I suppose
you will be glad to go there for the holidays."

"Yes, we all love it very much. It is a dear old place; my husband's
family have lived there for generations, and my old home, where I lived
before I married, is only a couple of miles away."

"I have always thought Virginia must be a very interesting place," said
Marjorie. "I have read ever so many books about the early settlers in
Jamestown. Have you read 'To Have and to Hold,' and 'White Aprons'?"

"Yes, I have read both. Our home is on the James River, not far from
Jamestown--would you like to see it?"

"I should love it," said Marjorie, heartily. "I don't suppose I ever
shall though," she added, with a sigh.

"I don't see why not," said Mrs. Randolph, smiling. "How would you like
to go home with us for the holidays?"

Marjorie was speechless. For the first moment she could scarcely believe
that her friend was in earnest.

"I came this afternoon on purpose to propose it," Mrs. Randolph went on,
convinced by the girl's flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes that there was
no doubt about her wanting to accept the invitation. "Beverly and I were
speaking of it last evening. We shall be alone ex