nough!"

"I'll lend you a shilling if you like," said Edith King.

"Thanks, awfully," replied Kitty. "I'll pay you back when I get my
pocket-money on Saturday."

There was a queer, troubled, dazed sort of look in her eyes. Edith
handed her the shilling and she disappeared under the cherry trees.

Dolly proceeded to skim after her.

"No, do stay, Dolly," cried Florence Aylmer; "stay and sit on my lap
and I'll tell you a story."

Dolly looked undecided for a moment, but presently she elected to go
with Kitty.

"There is something bothering her," she said; "I wonder what it can be.
I'll run and see; I'll bring word afterwards."

She disappeared with little shouts under the trees. Nothing could ever
make Dolly sad long. The other girls turned and looked at one another.

"What in the world can it be?" said Florence. "Poor Kitty! how very
white she turned as she read it."

Meanwhile Kitty had reached the house; the messenger was waiting in the
hall. Mrs. Clavering came out just as the girl appeared.

"Well, my dear Kitty," she said, "I hope it is not very bad news?"

"I will tell you presently; I must answer it now," said Kitty.

"You can go into the study, dear, and write your telegram there."

Kitty went in; she spent a little time, about ten minutes or so,
filling in the form; then she folded it up, gave it to the boy with a
shilling, and went and stood in the hall.

"What is the matter, Kitty?" said her governess, coming out and looking
her in the face.

"My telegram was from father. He--he is going to India," said Kitty,
"that is all. I won't be with him in the holidays--that's all."

She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice; her eyes, brave,
bright, and fearless, were fixed on Mrs. Clavering's face.

"Come in here and let us talk, dear," said Mrs. Clavering.

"I can't," said Kitty; "it is too bad."

"What is too bad, dear?"

"The pain here." She pressed her hand against her heart.

"Poor child! you love him very much."

"Very much," answered Kitty, "and the pain is too bad, and--and I can't
talk now. I'll just go back to the other girls in the cherry orchard."

"But, Kitty, can you bear to be with them just now?"

"I can't be alone," said Kitty, with a little piteous smile. She ran
out again into the summer sunshine. Mrs. Clavering stood and watched
her.

"Poor little girl," she said to herself, "and she does not know the
worst, nor half the worst, for I had a long lette