“If you were in earnest about wanting my father’s violin if I ever wished to part with it, I am ready to offer it to you. The hole is quite a deep one, otherwise I could not think of giving up dear Mr. Barstow’s Christmas gift; you remember that he said I could sell it if ever I was in a hole, so I must do it now.” She read over carefully what she had written, and then added: “Please don’t think you must take the violin if you don’t want it. Perhaps you spoke on the spur of the moment, and didn’t really mean me to take you seriously.” She hesitated a moment before signing her name. Then she slipped the note into the envelope, and began the address: “Mr. Reed Marshall.” Suddenly she realized that she did not know where the young man lived. “I shall have to send it in Mr. Barstow’s care,” she soliloquized, “and I ought to write to him and explain. It wouldn’t do to sell his gift without telling him why I am doing it.” She wrote another note, enclosed the one to Reed, and felt that the matter was concluded. “It can go off in the evening mail, and he should get it to-morrow,” she told herself. “I should have an answer in a few days.” By this time her fingers were stiff with cold, and, as there was no reason why she should linger, she hurried off, bearing the bag containing her cousin’s belongings and her violin. The latter she wanted to show to Jeremy Todd, but just as she was about to turn in at his gate she saw him ahead of her, and hastened to catch up with him. This, however, she did not do till he had reached the church, where he turned in. Ellen was right at his heels as he fitted the big key in the door. “Happy New Year, Mr. Jeremy Todd!” she greeted him. He flung open the door, and held out both hands. “Well, this is a surprise,” he cried. “When did you get in? Have you seen Rindy? How is she?” “I got in yesterday and went right out to the hospital. Cousin Rindy is doing as well as one could expect, but of course she worries. May I come in with you? I have such a lot to tell you, and I want to consult you about something. You know I am nothing if not a consulter.” “Come right in and tell me all about it. We certainly have missed you, child. It made me feel very lonesome to see the house next door shut up and deserted.” They entered the church and seated themselves near the organ. Then Ellen poured forth her tale, concluding with: “So, you see, Mr. Todd, here is my chance to do something for Cousin Rindy, something really worth while. Of course I am sorry to give up dear Daddy’s violin, but I am not used yet to owning it, so it is better to give it up before it becomes harder to do. It will be a comfort to think that it is in the hands of one who will treasure it, that is, if he really does want it. Besides, I am not expecting to be a violinist.” “And this young man is?”