slight girlish figure in dark-red
cashmere appeared on the terrace to gather the yellow and white and
violet chrysanthemums that bloomed in the borders.

Audrey was in her own private sanctum, and had given orders that no one
should disturb her. Even Mollie was to be sent away. She had very
important business on her hands. There was her letter to Geraldine, and
a very difficult one it was to write--so difficult, that more than once
Audrey thought that she would put on her hat and go up to Hillside
instead; but she remembered that Gage was expecting visitors to
luncheon. They would probably come early, and drive away before dusk;
her letter must not be delivered before then. So she addressed herself
again to her task.

After all, it was a very sweet, womanly letter, and might have touched
any sister's heart.

'If you cannot conscientiously approve, you can at least wish me joy in
the life I have chosen for myself,' she wrote. 'I have accepted Mr.
Blake of my own free will, because I think he is worthy of my affection.
You do not know him yet; but he is so good--so good: sometimes I think
even Michael is not more to be trusted.' And so on.

But, after all, it was far easier to write to Michael. Audrey had no
need to pick her words or arrange her ideas with him. She could tell him
everything as frankly as though he were her brother. There need be no
limit to her confidence; Michael would never misunderstand her.

'The one drawback is that you are still away,' she finished
affectionately. 'I shall not feel things are perfect until we have had
one of our long talks on "Michael's bench." When are you coming home? It
will soon be November, and the trees will be stripped of their leaves.
Why do you trouble yourself about another man's business? No one wants
you more than your devoted cousin and friend--AUDREY ROSS.'

And when this letter was in the post, and the note for Geraldine lying
on the marble slab in the hall, she felt a sense of relief, and had
leisure to think of Cyril.

They had their walk together after afternoon school, but it soon grew
dusk, and Audrey suggested that, as her mother was alone, they should go
back to Woodcote to tea. There was no invitation to dinner that night,
but Cyril did not expect it--he had his dormitory work; and as Audrey
promised to see him before he went away for the night, he was quite
content.

'You must not think that I mean to bore Mrs. Ross with intruding myself
on all occa