"I'm sorry to lose you," she said; "but you must come again, if you don't find we are too quiet for you." Di squeezed her hand. "You're a trump. I wish I could tell you that all your talks have had the effect you want, but I'm too old to change my ways. And I don't want to, if I could. You have made me believe that I'm living on a lower level than you. You're in touch with Unseen Things, and I'm not. And you've made me see I'm a useless cumberer of the earth, and I'm not fulfilling the purpose of my creation. But I've no ability to alter my line, or any desire in that direction. I think you've left me a little more hopeless than when you found me." "Oh, how dreadful!" exclaimed Rowena. "What can I do to remedy that? After all, dear Di, it's only a question of your will. You know Who will help you to adjust your life differently. You have only to ask, and it will be done." "I know! I know! And you're a dear old thing to care a snap about me. No one else does." Then, with a change of tone, she said, "I mean to spend next Christmas with Hector Ross. He's a rum sort, isn't he? My word, how he'll bully that little aunt of his! He wants some one to stand up to him. I wish he'd give me carte blanche to bring a few girls to add to his house-party. I know some who would make him sit up. But I don't care for girls myself, as you know. Give me men, even if they're rotten. And he's hardly that, is he? I rather fancy he'll turn into a man like your good husband if left to develop his own line. These Scotchmen are like blocks of granite. You only hammer yourself if you try to hammer them." Di left and Rowena thought about her much. Then the young Holts went back to their grandmother. She was living in Mrs. Burke's country house which had been left to her, and meant to stay there. Marion had returned, and took up lessons again, and the house settled down to a very quiet life, much to the General's satisfaction. Rowena had a long talk with Marion upon the first evening of her return. "I feel now that your mother is in such comfortable circumstances that you ought not to be out teaching," she said. "Doesn't she want to have you with her?" "She has Bertha and Milly. She does not need me. I shall never forget your goodness in getting me this work. Why should I give it up? I've never been so happy in my life as I am with you. And I love Mysie, and she is a real pleasure to teach. If you are satisfied with my teaching, don't try to send me away." "My dear Marion, I'm only too delighted to keep you. We will say no more about it."