Ah! that was a happy afternoon! Mardie took Mildred in her arms and kissed and petted her to her heart's content, then the door opened and in came old Ellen, the cook, carrying a tea-tray with freshly-made scones, a plate of raspberries from the garden, and a jug of thick, country cream. The kind old soul had been so full of sympathy that she had insisted upon carrying it up the three flights of stairs herself, although her breath was of the shortest, and she gasped and panted in alarming fashion. Mildred laughed and cried in one breath, and lay back against the cushions, drinking tea, and eating raspberries in great contentment of spirit. "I was awfully hungry, though I didn't know it. I feel as if I had been ill. Oh, Mardie, isn't it a lovely feeling when the pain goes, and you can just rest and be thankful! ... It's worse to have a pain in your mind than in your body. I feel ashamed now that I made such a fuss about staying at school--it seems such a little thing in comparison, but don't say `I told you so!' Mardie, or that will make me feel horrid again. It really _is_ big, you know, only the other was so much bigger... Mardie, have you ever had a disappointment--as big a disappointment as mine?" A quiver passed over Miss Margaret's face, and for a moment she looked very sad. "Oh, Mildred, yes!" she cried. "Everyone has, dear, but sometimes I have been discontented enough to imagine that I have had more than my share. A disappointment, indeed! dozens,--scores,--hundreds! But of course some are harder to bear than others." "Tell me about one now!" said Mildred, leaning back against the cushions and settling herself to listen in comfort. "Do, Mardie! I feel just in the humour to listen to a story; and I know it will be interesting if you tell it. `The Story of a Disappointment!' Something exciting that happened to you when you were young. Now then, go along! Begin at once!" Mardie laughed, and then pretended to look indignant.