succeeded, and reluctantly Azalea unlocked the door.

"Don't talk to me, Patty," she pleaded. "I'm in the depths of despair,
but you can't help me. Nobody can help me,--and I can't even help
myself."

"Who made all this trouble for you?" inquired Patty, casually, her never
failing tact instructing her that Azalea would answer that better than
protestations of affection.

"I made it myself,--but that doesn't make it any easier to bear."

"Indeed it doesn't," Patty agreed. "But, never mind, Zaly, if you heaped
up a mound of trouble, let me help you to pull it down again."

"No; you can't," and Azalea looked at her dully.

"Oh, come now, let me try. Is it about your father?"

Azalea fairly jumped. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said," returned Patty, calmly. "You know, dear, you've made
us think there's something queer about your father. Is he--has he done
anything wrong?"

"No, Patty, goodness, gracious no! Mr. Thorpe is a most honoured and
honourable man!"

"Now why does she call him Mr. Thorpe?" Patty wondered, but she only
said;

"Oh, all right, forgive my suggestion. Why doesn't he write to you?"

"He--he?--oh, Patty, that's the trouble."

"Good! Now we're getting at it. How is that the trouble?"

"Shall I tell you everything?" and poor Azalea looked doubtful as to
what to do.

"Yes, dear," Patty said, gently, fearing even yet that an ill-advised
word would interrupt or prevent this long-deferred explanation.

"Well, you see,--oh, Patty,--I'm a wicked, deceitful girl--"

"Out with it," urged Patty, not greatly scared by this tragic
beginning,--for Azalea was prone to exaggerate.

"I was home, you know, at Horner's Corners--"

A knock on the door was a most unwelcome interruption.

"Don't answer," Patty whispered, "it's Elise,--I heard her step."

But Elise was not so easily rebuffed. "Let me in," she called, "I know
you're in there, Azalea,--you and Patty."

Patty went to the door, and opened it slightly. "Go away now, Elise,
please," she said, "Azalea and I are having a little confidential chat."

"Not so confidential that I can't be in it too, is it?" and speaking
lightly, Elise brushed past Patty and into the room.

"Why, Azalea," she exclaimed, "what _is_ the matter? You look like a
tragedy queen!"

For Azalea, annoyed at the intrusion, stood, hands clenched, and eyes
scowling, and she said angrily, "I don't think people ought to come into
other people's rooms, uninvited! I don't