middle life; she ought to
have years of life before her. Why might she not be roused, be taught
over again how to live, and to enjoy the good and glorious earth?
Margaret's eyes kindled.

"I am sure you could!" she repeated. "Let us try! Let me help Grace, and
let us all try our very best, dear Mrs. Peyton. Just think how wonderful
it would be to get well; to go about again, and be alive among live
people. Oh, my dear, let us try!"

But the lady's mood changed. In a flash, even as Margaret was gazing at
her with eager, loving eyes,--eyes in which stood tears of affection
and anxiety,--she changed. The mocking smile crept back to her lips, the
light of interest died from her eyes.

"Bah!" she said. "Little goose, what do you know about life and live
people? It was to get away from them that I took to my bed, do you hear?
There, go away! I have been talking great nonsense; forget all about it!
Sick folks often talk nonsense. Give me something to play with, and go
away! I had a new toy yesterday, an amber ball. It's in the top drawer.
Ah! isn't that a beauty? Give it to me! See, how smooth and cool it is,
Margaret! Do you think an amber necklace would be becoming to me? I can
wear yellow, you know; blondes of my type rarely can, but it always
suited me. Do you remember a story about the Amber Gods? It is one of
the few stories I ever cared for. To-morrow I'll order a set of amber
jewelry, bracelets and necklace, and--"

She stopped suddenly, seeing the grave compassion in Margaret's eyes.

[Illustration: "SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW
BRANCH."]

"Don't speak to me!" she cried, angrily. "You are thinking--I know
what you are thinking--that I cannot wear necklaces in bed. You think I
am a wretched, helpless, faded old woman. I hate you! Go away!" and
Margaret went.

As she passed along the garden-walk with bent head, musing soberly
enough, something struck her lightly on the head,--a cherry, which fell
at her feet. She looked up, and saw Grace sitting on a broad, low
branch.

"Come up!" said the Goat.

Margaret smiled, and shook her head. "My dear Grace, I never climbed a
tree in my life. I should not know where to begin."

"Time you learned!" said Grace, gravely. "There is no knowing when the
race will return to arboreal habits. Come, Margaret, I want you!"

Margaret hesitated, and was lost. She looked about, half fearing, half
hoping that somebody was in sight. No! no gardener came with