Uncle Justus," said Edna, looking at her doll with pleased eyes.
"How did you happen to know that I wanted to see Ada so much?"

"I did not know; I only thought that a little girl who was so fond of
her doll would be very likely to be glad to see it. When are we going
to have you back again?"

"Next week," replied Mrs. Evans. "We cannot let her go till then. I am
afraid that Dorothy will be very disconsolate at the loss of her
little friend. They have had such good times together."

"I am afraid Edna will be very far behind her classes," said Uncle
Justus, "and will have to study hard to make up for lost time."

Having seen Uncle Justus, and heard all the news, Edna felt that she
should like to stay on indefinitely. It was very nice to be just sick
enough to be considered, and to have good things to eat; to have such
cosy little meals with Miss Agnes, before either of them were well
enough to go down stairs; to receive from Mrs. MacDonald every day
some dainty, and to have Mrs. Evans appear every evening with a
delightful story book from which she would read aloud. Then it was
pleasant to be thrown with such a bright companion as Dorothy, who was
always ready to devise some new play or to shake out a bag of pretty
pieces for doll clothes. Altogether, Edna thought herself very
fortunate to have fallen into such good hands.

"It is almost like being at home," she said. "I wish you knew my
mamma, Mrs. Evans."

"It will not be very long before you see her, will it?" asked Mrs.
Evans, stooping to tuck in a shawl around the child.

"Not till May," replied Edna; "I s'pose mamma will stay till then."

"Well, perhaps you will come back next year, and then we shall see
more of you."

Edna looked thoughtful. She knew there had been some talk of her
returning another year. She loved all these friends, but she was still
quite sure that home was best. Mrs. Evans' speech made her a little
homesick. She wanted her mamma. To be sick without any mother at hand
seemed a very unnatural thing. She was a little tired, perhaps. She
would try to go to sleep.

She dozed off just as Dorothy came tiptoeing into the room. There was
a look of pleased excitement upon her face, and she fidgeted about
till Edna awoke from her little nap.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, contritely. "O, Edna, I know such a
splendid something."

"What?" asked Edna, raising herself on her elbow.

"I can't tell you just now. You'll know pretty soon. O, you'l