Darinda, and reported her as a perfect giantess, who wore a man’s hat, with a flapper behind on the waist of her riding-suit, and sat her horse as stiffly and straight as if held in her place by a ramrod, and never rode faster than a black ant could trot. This was Tom’s criticism, which I had repeated to Archie, who laughed a little, and pulled his light brown mustache, and said: “Tom was not a proper judge of stylish women, and that Darinda’s manners were faultless.” I had no doubt they were, though I had never seen her, but I should ere long, as she had consented to be one of my bride-maids, and had written me a note which was very prettily worded, and very patronizing in its tone, and made me dislike her thoroughly. She was in London now, Archie had written in the letter in which he told me he should be with me on the day after Tom’s departure. I was never so glad for his coming, I think, for my heart was very heavy at parting with Tom, whose words, “I meant to marry you myself,” kept ringing in my ears as I sat alone in the grassy lane by the ruins of the playhouse he had built. Not that I attached the slightest importance to them, or believed for a moment that he was serious in what he said, for he was my brother, my dear, good brother, who had been so much to me, and whom I missed so much, that at last I laid my head upon dollie’s miniature grave and cried bitterly for the boy traveling so fast to London, and the ship which would take him away. There was, however, comfort in the thought that Archie was coming on the morrow, and the next morning found me with spirits restored, eager and expectant for my love. But Archie did not come, and the hours wore on and there was no news of him until the following day, when there came a note from his mother telling me he was sick. “Nothing very serious,” she wrote, “only a heavy cold, the result of a drenching he received while riding with Darinda several miles out in the country. He sends his love, and says you are not to be alarmed, for he will soon be with you.” That was the note, and I was not to be alarmed, nor was I. I was only conscious that a strange kind of feeling took possession of me, which I could not define, but which sent me to my room, where the bridal finery lay, and made me fold it up, piece by piece, and put it carefully away, with a feeling that it would never be worn. There was much sickness in our neighborhood that summer, and the morning after hearing of Archie’s illness I took my breakfast in bed, and after that day knew little of what was passing around me until the roses which were blossoming so brightly when Tom went away were fading on their stalks, and other and later flowers were blossoming in their place. I had been very sick, Aunt Esther said, with the distemper, as they called the disease, which had desolated so many homes in our vicinity.