"am sorry for Aunt Maria!"

She pushed back her chair and stalked out of the room, while her
brothers and sisters stared after her agape. Along the narrow oil-
clothed hall she went, up the steep, narrow staircase to the little
third-floor bedroom, the only place on earth which was her very own.
There was nothing luxurious about it, nothing of any intrinsic value or
beauty, but in the eyes of its occupant every separate article was a
pearl of price. All her treasures were here--her pictures, her
ornaments, her books, mementoes of journeyings, offerings of friends.
It was a shrine, a refuge from the cold outer world. Alone in "my room"
one lost the insignificance of a member of a large family, and became a
responsible human being face to face with personal trials and
responsibilities...

Eight weeks out of a life! To the adult mind a sacrifice of so short a
period may be a disappointment, but can hardly be deemed a trial; to
schoolgirl fifteen it may seem a catastrophe which clouds the whole
horizon. To Darsie Garnett the change of plan was the first real sorrow
of her life, and these moments of reflection were full of a suffocating
misery. Anticipated joys rose before her with intolerable distinctness.
She saw her companions happily at play, and felt a stabbing dart of
jealousy. Yes, they would forget all about her and feel no loss from
her absence! Clemence and Vie would enjoy their _tete-a-tete_, would be
unwilling to admit a third into their conferences at her return. Dan
would take them for boating and fishing expeditions. Dan would grow to
like Clemence better than herself! Darsie gave a little sob of misery
at the thought. She had no sentimental feelings as regards Dan, or any
one else at this period of her life, but as the one _big_ boy, almost
man, of her acquaintance Dan stood on a pedestal by himself as a lofty
and superior being, whose favour was one of the prizes of life. That
Dan should become more intimate, more friendly with Clemence and
Lavender than with herself was a possibility fraught with dismay.

Darsie sobbed again, but her eyes were dry; she was angry, too angry to
cry; her heart was seething with rebellion. Some one knocked at the
door and received no answer, knocked again and was curtly ordered to "go
away"; then Mr Garnett's voice spoke, in gentle and conciliatory
tones--

"It's father! Let me in, dear; I've just a minute..."

It was impossible to refuse such a request. Da