seemed to the young girl that the outlook was dark. Her
aunt's words absolutely bewildered her. Her aunt suspected Pauline, Pen,
Briar, and Patty of concealing something. But what had they to conceal?
It is true that when Aunt Sophia first arrived they had felt a certain
repugnance to her society, a desire to keep out of her way, and a longing
for the old wild, careless, slovenly days. But surely long ere this such
foolish ideas had died a natural death. They all loved Aunt Sophia now;
what could they have to conceal?

"I dare not talk about it to the younger girls. I don't want to get into
Pen's confidence. Pen, of all the children, suits me least. The people to
whom I must appeal are therefore Briar or Patty, or Pauline herself.
Patty and Briar are devoted to each other. The thought in one heart seems
to have its counterpart in that of the other. They might even be twins,
so deeply are they attached. No; the only one for me to talk to is
Pauline. But what can I say to her? And Pauline is not well. At least,
she is well and she is not well. Nevertheless I will go and see her. I
will find her now."

Verena went into the nursery. Pauline was sometimes there. She was fond
of sitting by the cosy nursery fire with a book in her hand, which of
late she only pretended to read. Verena opened the nursery door and poked
in her bright head and face.

"Come in, Miss Renny, come in," said nurse.

"I am not going to stay, nurse. Ah, Marjorie, my pet! Come and give me a
sweet kiss."

The little baby sister toddled across the floor. Verena lifted her in her
arms and kissed her affectionately.

"I thought perhaps Miss Pauline was here, nurse. Do you happen to know
where she is?"

"Miss Pauline has a very bad headache," said nurse--"so bad that I made
her go and lie down; and I have just lit a bit of fire in her bedroom,
for she is chilly, too, poor pet! Miss Pauline hasn't been a bit herself
since that nasty accident."

"I am sure she hasn't; but I did not know she was suffering from
headache. I will go to her."

Verena ran along the passage. Her own room faced south; Pauline's,
alongside of it, had a window which looked due east. Verena softly opened
the door. The chamber was tiny, but it was wonderfully neat and cheerful.
A bright fire burned in the small grate. Pauline was lying partly over on
her side; her face was hidden. Her dark hair was tumbled about the
pillow.

"Paulie, it is I," said Verena. "Are you awake?"