"Before I tell you of any of my own personal affairs, I must mention something that will interest you more deeply. There is an Acadian family living in Annapolis, and whom do you suppose they have had visiting them lately? Why, the little Yvonne, the blind girl, of whom I have heard you speak, who is the special protégée, if I remember, of Miss Stratford. It is indeed due to her kindness, I understand, that Yvonne has been able to make this journey from Meteghan, and I am told that she is to stay here three months under the care of a physician who thinks that he can help her eyes. She is also to take lessons on the piano, as those who are interested in her think that it is better for her to let her voice rest for the present, but to play the piano well enough to accompany her songs will some time be a great advantage to her." "There," exclaimed Martine, excitedly, "that's a fine idea! I wonder who suggested it to the Babets. It isn't likely that the doctor can do so very much for her eyes, but it will be splendid for her to get a start in music. When I see papa at Christmas I intend to persuade him to have Yvonne brought to Boston for a year." "Oh, that would be a great expense," said Priscilla, "and someone would have to take care of her." "That could be managed easily enough, if I can only get papa thoroughly interested." "I think he has already done his part, for it's through the money he gave you for Yvonne that she is able to be in Annapolis now." "I wonder how Eunice used her money; did she ever tell you, Priscilla?" "No," replied Priscilla; "but she may have helped her mother about the mortgage, and perhaps she may have put a little aside for a college nest-egg. She is so practical." "It's wonderful--isn't it, Priscilla?--that you should have met a girl you approve of so thoroughly in a corner of the world that isn't Plymouth or even Boston." Priscilla, as she folded up her letter, looked questioningly at Martine. There was something that she did not quite understand in Martine's attitude toward Eunice. Whatever question she had in mind remained for the time unspoken. It was time for school to begin, and they hurried to their places. CHAPTER IV CHANGES The first week in December a strange thing happened. Brenda had received a letter with a Washington postmark, yet this in itself was not remarkable. Such letters came to her daily, for Arthur had gone to Washington on business a day or two after the trip to Harvard. But her manner, as she rapidly scanned this particular letter, was so unusual that Martine, watching her, knew that it brought news out of the ordinary. The slight frown on Brenda's face deepened as she read the four or five pages, and when she had finished she flung the letter down on the floor. "Oh--it seems too bad," she sighed, in response to Martine's look of surprise. "Just as we are settled, to have to give everything up!" "Give up--what?" asked the puzzled Martine.