"The summer is over, Nan, and we are about to disband. We have, perhaps, had more gayety and less real happiness than in the years gone by. I think you know as well as I the reasons for this. You are the only one, I think, who could set some crooked matters straight. Suppose you see what you can do?" Enigmatical as the words were, Nan understood their purpose, and when, on the last evening before the Andrews and the Hills were to leave Hetherford, they assembled at the manor, she had quite determined to follow Eleanor's suggestion. It was a custom of long standing for Nan, Mollie, and Eleanor to spend the last night of the season with the Lawrence girls, to talk over the events of the summer and to anticipate the future. To-night, as they gathered around the wide fireplace in the drawing-room, a certain sadness hovered over them, subduing their voices, breaking the conversation with frequent spaces of silence. Their hearts were full of thoughts that were left unspoken. Jean's absence made itself strongly felt among them, so closely was she associated with every like occasion in the past. "Nothing seems real without her," said Eleanor drearily. "This parting is like no other." "I hate partings anyway," cried Mollie. "I am always so afraid that we will not come together again quite in the old way!" "All things must change To something new, to something strange!" quoted Helen. "Now, girls, this is nonsense," exclaimed Nathalie, struggling with the lump that would rise in her throat. "Jean is going to have a splendid time, and will come home as strong and well as ever, and at Christmas time you will all come up here and we will have a grand reunion." No answer to Nathalie's cheerful prediction suggested itself, and Helen made a welcome diversion by announcing that it was bedtime. "Nan, will you share my room?" she asked as they were on their way upstairs. "Well, I should think so. I particularly want to have a good talk with you alone." "That is nice. I am just in the humor for it, too." When they had donned their wrappers Helen threw herself down on the sofa before the open fire, and Nan knelt down on the hearthstone to stir the logs into a brighter blaze. "A cheerful fire is always inspiring to me," she said explanatorily. "I can talk so much better when I am thoroughly warm and cozy." Helen smiled indulgently. "All right, Nan; make yourself comfie, and then talk to me." The flames were crackling up the chimney now, and Nan settled herself on the hearthrug with a sigh of satisfaction. "Do you think Jean will be happy so far away from you all?" "She wanted very much to go," Helen replied evasively. "Yes, I know that. Helen, Jean was not happy before she went away. Did you not see it?" Helen did not speak, and after a moment Nan resumed quietly: "Yes, Jean was unhappy, and yet Mr. Farr loved her dearly." Helen sat up and looked at her friend in blank astonishment. "Why, Nan----"