letter, and when they met it was easy to tell just
what she chose, and keep silent about the rest, for Bridgie was not one
of the curious among womenkind, and never dreamt of questioning and
cross-questioning as to the plans of another. She simply took for
granted that Sylvia would return to her old quarters, after a pleasant
summer holiday, just as she was happily assured that her friend felt
nothing but purest joy and satisfaction in the prospect before her.

"Oh, me darling," she cried rapturously, "I am delighted for you! Isn't
that the very best news that could happen? So soon, too, and a lovely
jaunt together in the beautiful summer weather. 'Twill make you strong
again in no time, and you will write me long letters telling me all your
adventures, and 'twill be almost as good as having them myself. I
couldn't tell you when I've been so pleased!"

"Humph!" said Sylvia disconsolately. Would Jack be delighted also, and
hail her departure with rapturous congratulations? "Won't you miss me?
Won't you feel lonely when I'm not here?" she questioned earnestly, and
Bridgie smiled a cheery reassurement.

"I'll have Esmeralda, you see! She will be here until the end of the
season, and then we are going up to Scotland with her. We shall be so
busy and taken up with one thing and another that I shan't have time to
miss you, darling."

"Humph!" said Sylvia once more. This was intended for comfort, she was
aware, but it was not the kind of comfort that was required. Bridgie
O'Shaughnessy might be so unselfish as to rejoice because a friend did
not suffer by her absence, but Sylvia longed to hear that she was
indispensable, and that nothing and no one could fill her place. It was
another bitter drop in her cup to realise that the O'Shaughnessy girls
were so closely united that any friend must needs be at a discount in
comparison with a sister.

"Ye don't seem as excited as I should have expected. Is anything
worrying you, dear?" Bridgie inquired, and Sylvia hurriedly searched
for a plausible excuse and found it in her father's health.

In reality she was not disquieted by his reference to his own weakness,
for he had been complaining for months back without apparently growing
worse, and she was convinced that the coming rest would speedily restore
him to health. It made an excuse, however, and Bridgie sympathised and
offered a dozen kindly, unpractical suggestions as her custom was.

Then the conversation dr