rryweather. I asked him to come up to the
house; if he should come while I am away, you
will be good to him. I will let you know by
telegraph when to expect me.

"Always affectionately yours,
"JOHN MONTFORT."

Margaret read this brief letter with a sinking heart. How was she to
keep up without Uncle John? How was she to cope with all the
difficulties that beset her path like sharp-thorned briers? If she had
but Aunt Faith--if she had but some one to turn to! She had tried to
take counsel with Mrs. Peyton, but the beautiful woman was still, at
fifty, a spoiled child, far younger in many ways than Margaret herself;
she would only laugh, and advise her to get rid of Miss Sophronia by
some trick, or practical joke.

"Freeze her out, my dear! Get rid of her, somehow! That is all the
advice I can give you. And bring the young barbarians to see me; I am
sure they will amuse me."

Margaret had just been acting on this last request. She had taken the
two boys to see the invalid, and had left them there now, coming away
with a sore and angry heart. Mrs. Peyton had been drawing the children
out, laughing at their remarks about their cousin, and paying no regard
to Margaret's entreaties. At length Margaret had simply come away, with
no more than a brief "Good afternoon!" feeling that she could not trust
herself to say more. Emily Peyton only laughed; she had full confidence
in her charm, and thought she could bring back her puritanical little
friend whenever she chose to smile in a particular way; meanwhile, the
children were a new toy, and amused her.

But Margaret felt that she had had almost enough of Mrs. Peyton. Beauty
was a great deal, charm and grace were a great deal more; but they did
not take the place of heart. No, there was no one to help her! Well,
then she must help herself, that was all!

She stood still, her mind full of this new thought. She was eighteen
years old; she was well and strong, and possessed of average
intelligence. "Look here!" she said suddenly, aloud. "If you cannot
manage those children, why, I am ashamed of you. Do you hear?"

The other self, the timid one, did hear, and took heart. The girl felt
new strength coming to her. The world had changed, somehow; the
giants,--were they only windmills, after all? Up, lance, and at them!

In this changed mood she went on, humming a little song to herself. As
she drew near t