how, as she found the other so generously and
romantically concerned. Then she had gone on to speak of Cousin Julia
Pritchard and the boarding-house, confessing her apprehension and
dread, which seemed somehow to have become more definite in the
interval. She even showed the stranger Cousin Julia's letter.

Having perused it, Elsie Moss acknowledged that it wasn't altogether a
pleasant outlook for such a one as Elsie Marley, honey, though she
herself wouldn't mind it. Indeed, she declared that she should have
liked it immensely. And finally, as she left to go back to her berth,
she exclaimed with fervor that she only wished that Miss Pritchard were
her cousin, and the Reverend John Middleton Elsie Marley's uncle and
guardian.

As those were Elsie Moss's last spoken words that night, so that
thought was uppermost in her mind as she fell asleep shortly after her
cropped head touched the pillow. And next morning when she woke early
with a startlingly delightful idea, it almost caused her to bound from
her upper berth as if it had been a bed in the middle of a stationary
floor. For it came not in embryo, not in the egg, so to speak, but
full-fledged. It seemed as if she couldn't possibly wait until she was
dressed to divulge it to Elsie Marley.

But Elsie Marley was, like her prototype, late in rising, and the other
Elsie's eagerness grew yet keener as she waited. Finally, however,
they were alone together in the former's seat, as the train sped
rapidly eastward.

Elsie Marley's countenance seemed almost to have changed overnight.
There was truly something in it that had not been there before. Of
course it was not animated now; nevertheless, it was not so utterly
wanting in expression as it had been the day before, even in
juxtaposition with the vivid little face beside her.

"Oh, Elsie-Honey, I've got something perfectly gorgeous to tell you,"
cried the dark Elsie. "Listen--you're not very keen about going to
your cousin's, are you?"

Elsie confessed that she liked the idea less than ever.

"And I just _hate_--the short of it is--I simply _cannot_ go anywhere
but to New York. You'd ever so much prefer Enderby because it's select
and has culture and advantages, and you'd sooner have a dignified
clergyman uncle than a newspaper cousin. As for me, I should adore
Cousin Julia."

"It seems a pity, surely," admitted Elsie quietly.

The other looked at her. "You see what's coming, honey?"

She shook her