Oh, Jordan, if I could only
see her! Maria says it's terrible childish to be always harping on that
string, and mebbe it is. But--oh, Jordan, there's such a hunger in my
heart for her, such a hunger!"

Jordan felt a queer sensation in his throat, and twisted his ragged
straw hat about in his big hands. Just then a vague idea which had
hovered in his brain all day crystallized into decision. But all he said
was:

"I hope you'll feel better soon, Aunty Nan."

"Oh, yes, Jordan dear, I'll be better soon," said Aunty Nan with her own
sweet smile. "'The inhabitant shall not say I am sick,' you know. But if
I could only see little Joscelyn first!"

Jordan went out and hurried down-stairs. Billy Morrison was in the
stable, when Jordan stuck his head over the half-door.

"Say, can I have the rest of the day off, sir? I want to go to
Kensington."

"Well, I don't mind," said Billy Morrison amiably. "May's well get you
jaunting done 'fore harvest comes on. And here, Jord; take this quarter
and get some oranges for Aunty Nan. Needn't mention it to headquarters."

Billy Morrison's face was solemn, but Jordan winked as he pocketed the
money.

"If I've any luck, I'll bring her something that'll do her more good
than the oranges," he muttered, as he hurried off to the pasture. Jordan
had a horse of his own now, a rather bony nag, answering to the name of
Dan. Billy Morrison had agreed to pasture the animal if Jordan used
him in the farm work, an arrangement scoffed at by Mrs. William in no
measured terms.

Jordan hitched Dan into the second best buggy, dressed himself in his
Sunday clothes, and drove off. On the road he re-read a paragraph he had
clipped from the Charlottetown Daily Enterprise of the previous day.

"Joscelyn Burnett, the famous contralto, is spending a few days in
Kensington on her return from her Maritime concert tour. She is the
guest of Mr. and Mrs. Bromley, of The Beeches."

"Now if I can get there in time," said Jordan emphatically.

Jordan got to Kensington, put Dan up in a livery stable, and inquired
the way to The Beeches. He felt rather nervous when he found it, it was
such a stately, imposing place, set back from the street in an emerald
green seclusion of beautiful grounds.

"Fancy me stalking up to that front door and asking for Miss Joscelyn
Burnett," grinned Jordan sheepishly. "Mebbe they'll tell me to go around
to the back and inquire for the cook. But you're going just the same,
Jordan S