I am sure Gladys hasn't done nearly all that,—reading and studying and writing everything over and over again for years and years. Why, she just began straight off to print books the moment she wanted to. I don't mean that she hadn't done any stories before, but not in the way Miss Graham says; and I have written two stories. I don't see why I shouldn't begin to have books printed, when I like, just as Gladys has. I certainly shan't wait a whole year. And I don't mean to write to Miss Graham any more. Miss Con seems getting on all right, only the doctor won't let her move, except just to be put on the sofa. I wish she would make haste and get well: and then Lady Denham could go back to the Farm and leave us in peace. She is so unkind to poor dear Millie, and seems to think it is all Millie's fault and mine that Miss Con fell down Gurglepool path. And that is so unfair: for of course we couldn't guess that Miss Con would choose to tumble in such a place. Millie says it was very stupid of her,—and so I think. And Millie is sure Miss Con likes being an invalid, and having a fuss made. But you mustn't let Mother see this, because she is fond of Miss Con. I'm so very glad to hear such good accounts of darling Mother. It does seem almost as if the being downright ill had made her better. What does Father mean by saying that perhaps you will all come home soon? Is there really any chance of that? Lady Denham means to have an excursion one day soon, now Miss Con is well enough to be left. There's a big cave, miles away, which we are to see. She and Sir Keith are going, and she wants to take the twins and Thyrza and me. I do think she might squeeze poor Millie in too, but she won't. I've half a mind to stay at home, if Millie does: only I want to see the cave.—Believe me, darling, ever your loving sister— MAGGIE. FROM THYRZA TO NELLIE. PRIVATE September 19. MY DEAR NELLIE,—I have written very short letters lately, but nursing has taken up a great deal of time. And besides—I did not want to say too much at first. I wanted to leave Maggie to tell for herself how things have really been. I think Lady Denham felt the same, from something she said one day. But now all these weeks have gone, and I can see quite clearly from your letters that Maggie has not told,—at least that she hasn't said much. I believe Lady Denham asked her yesterday how much she had explained things to you or Father: for I heard her make a shirking sort of answer. She has learnt that from Millie. It wasn't Maggie's way—once. She is writing to-day, but I don't suppose she will say much: and I think it is time for me to speak out. You at least ought to understand, for Miss Con's sake: and you may say just as much or as little as you like to anybody else.