to
his own devices this afternoon. This evening she would surely make
everything understood with Sylvia, show the girl how her behavior had
appeared, and, she hoped, give her a new standard.

Miss Lacey and Judge Trent were seated on the piazza when they
approached.

"Just in time," said Miss Martha.

"Where's that lazy Sylvia? Not down yet?" asked Edna.

"No," replied Judge Trent; "I was just telling Miss Lacey I should go
up and knock on her door. She assures me that laziness is not one of my
niece's characteristics."

"Decidedly not," returned Edna.

"Quite the opposite," said Miss Martha. "That is why, if she sleeps
right through supper time, I knew Edna would excuse her. I can't forget
how she looked when she came upstairs. All the life seemed gone out of
her. Folks come to those spots, if they will keep themselves keyed up
all the time."

Edna began to have very uncomfortable sensations. She passed into the
house and upstairs. Pausing before Sylvia's door, she listened. There
was a little rapping sound within, all else was still. The girl knocked
softly. There was no response. She turned the handle quietly. If,
possibly, her guest were asleep, she would not awaken her. Slowly,
slowly she opened the unresisting door, and her expression changed from
expectancy to blankness as she perceived that the room was empty. The
fair white pillow bore no imprint of a curly head. The curtain ring was
striking rhythmically against the window sill in the breeze.

Edna walked in, and looked about the orderly apartment. An envelope on
the dresser caught her eye. It was addressed to herself, and the
contents were as follows:

DEAR EDNA,--With a thousand thanks for the hospitality you have
shown me here, I am going back to the Mill Farm. I have known since
yesterday that something was wrong, but I am glad I came back last
evening to learn how wrong. There is no question of staying now,
because no good could come of our attempting to talk. My thoughts
are my own; no one else can have jurisdiction over them. I cannot
think of one act of mine as your guest which you could disapprove.
Therefore there is nothing to discuss; but the grief it is to me to
have offended you, you will never know. You can tell the others
that this note confesses to you that I was suddenly overwhelmed
with homesickness and felt I could not stay for argument. It will
be the simple truth. They will set it