aded to leave Beth at this critical
time, lest she should relapse, just as she was beginning to form nice
feminine habits. For Beth had taken kindly to the sewing and
tea-drinking and long quiet chats; it was a delight to her to have
some one to wait on, and help, and talk to. "I'm so fond of you, Aunt
Victoria," she said one day; "I even like you to snap at me; and if we
lived quite alone together, you and I, I should do everything for
you."

"Would you like to come away with me these holidays?" said Aunt
Victoria, seized suddenly with a bright idea.

"Oh, wouldn't I!" said Beth. "But then, the expense!"

"I think I can manage it, if your mamma has no objection," said Aunt
Victoria, nodding and blinking, and nodding again, as she calculated.

"I should think mamma would be only too glad to get rid of me," said
Beth hopefully.

And she was not mistaken.

CHAPTER XXI

The next few weeks, in their effect upon Beth's character, were among
the most important of her life. She did not know until the day before
where she was to go with Aunt Victoria. It was the habit of the family
to conceal all such arrangements from the children, and indeed from
each other as much as possible. Aunt Victoria observed that Caroline
was singularly reticent, and Mrs. Caldwell complained that Aunt
Victoria made a mystery of everything. It was a hard habit, which
robbed Beth of what would have been so much to her, something to look
forward to. Since she knew that she was to go somewhere, however, she
had lived upon the idea; her imagination had been busy trying to
picture the unknown place, and her mind full of plans for the comfort
of Aunt Victoria.

It was after breakfast one day, while her mother and Aunt Victoria
were still at table, that the announcement was made. "You need not do
any lessons this morning, children," Mrs. Caldwell said. "Beth is
going to Harrowgate with Aunt Victoria to-morrow, and I must see to
her things and get them packed."

Aunt Victoria looked round at Beth with a carefully restrained smile,
expecting some demonstration of joy. Beth was standing in the window
looking out, and turned with a frown of intentness on her face when
her mother mentioned Harrowgate, as if she were trying to recall
something.

"Harrowgate!" she said slowly. "_Harrowgate!_"

"Beth, do not frown so," Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed irritably. "You'll be
all wrinkled before you're twenty."

Beth gazed at her solemnly without seeing