s so
confusing to have two Julias, but for you! Because," her arms went
about her sister, "you've always been such a darling to me, Mark!"

Margaret went downstairs very thoughtfully, and out into the silent
Sunday streets. Where they walked, or what they talked of, she did not
know. She knew that her head ached, and that the village looked very
commonplace, and that the day was very hot. She found it more painful
than sweet to be strolling along beside the big, loose-jointed figure,
and to send an occasional side glance to John Tenison's earnest face,
which wore its pleasantest expression now. Ah, well, it would be all
over at five o'clock, she said wearily to herself, and she could go
home and lie down with her aching head in a darkened room, and try not
to think what to-day might have been. Try not to think of the dainty
little luncheon Annie would have given them at Mrs. Carr-Boldt's, of
the luxurious choice of amusements afterward: motoring over the lovely
country roads, rowing on the wide still water, watching the tennis
courts, or simply resting in deep chairs on the sweep of velvet lawn
above the river.

She came out of a reverie to find Doctor Tenison glancing calmly up
from his watch.

"The train was five o'clock, was it?" he said. "I've missed it!"

"Missed it!" Margaret echoed blankly. Then, as the horrible
possibility dawned upon her, "Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes,--as bad as that!" he said, laughing at her.

Poor Margaret, fighting despair, struggled to recover herself.

"Well, I thought it might have been important to you!" she said,
laughing quite naturally. "There's a seven-six, but it stops
everywhere, and a ten-thirty. The ten-thirty is best, because
supper's apt to be a little late."

"The ten-thirty," Doctor Tenison echoed contentedly. Margaret's heart
sank,--five more hours of the struggle! "But perhaps that's an
imposition," he said. "Isn't there a tea-room--isn't there an inn
here where we could have a bite?"

"We aren't in Berlin," Margaret reminded him cheerfully. "There's
a hotel,--but Mother would never forgive me for leading any one
there! No, we'll take that little walk I told you of, and Mother
will give us something to eat later.--Perhaps if we're late enough,"
she added to herself, "we can have just tea and bread and jam alone,
after the others."

Suddenly, unreasonably, she felt philosophical and gay. The little
episode of missing the train had given her the old dear feeling of
adve