divided between the gold and white and the
pink and gold. All the little niceties of the dining-room and the
sitting-room--the American kitchen utensils which to Joan seemed
marvellous and beautiful, the snowy curtains at every window, the
white-handled knives and the plated silver--all these things held joys
and surprises and never-ending interest to the happy mother.

Between these duties and her school, the long winter months passed
happily away to Denas. The school, indeed, troubled her in a certain
way. Who was to keep it together? John also had formed it into a
Sunday-school and was greatly delighted with the work. But a really
good work never falls through; there is always someone to carry it on,
and one day Denas was visited among her pupils by the Wesleyan
preacher from St. Penfer. He was astonished at her methods and her
success, and he represented the claims of such a school with so much
force to the next district meeting that they gladly appointed a
teacher to fill the place of Denas. It cost her a little pang to
resign her authority; but her marriage was drawing near, and it would
necessarily be followed by her removal to St. Clair, and it was
important that the children should be provided for.

About the end of March she had a letter from Tris. The yacht was then
at Gibraltar on its return passage, and Tris might be looked for
within a few days. But the house was nearly ready and all her personal
preparations were made. Such as pertained to the ceremony and their
future life they would make together when Tris returned home. Never
had father, and mother, and daughter, been so happy and so closely
one. Joan had grown young again. John sang from morning to night.
Denas had the loveliness of love transfiguring the loveliness of mere
physical beauty. It was busy all and happy all within the Penelles'
cottage during those days of expectation.

One morning Joan was going through the whole house before the grand
final preparations, and for some reason she opened a closet usually
little regarded--a closet full of those odds and ends families do not
like to destroy. The first thing she lifted was that picture of Denas
as "Mademoiselle Denasia in Pinafore." It had been her pride and
comfort in sorrowful days now overpast, and she laid it upon the table
and stood looking at it. Denas entered the room while this act of
tender reminiscence was going on. She did not at first perceive or
understand the object of it. B