Marjorie's voice trembled a little, for she was feeling rather weak and forlorn, and Mrs. Randolph drew her down beside her on the sofa. "I think I always need you, dear," she said. "I have missed your visits very much, and reading to myself doesn't seem half as pleasant as having a nice little girl read aloud to me. Still, I am glad to have the use of my eyes again, especially as we are going away next week." "Going away!" repeated Marjorie, and her face expressed so much dismay that Mrs. Randolph could not help smiling. "We are not going for good," she explained, "but Beverly's vacation begins next Wednesday, and he is anxious to spend Christmas at our Virginia home. We shall only be away about ten days." Marjorie looked much relieved. "I was afraid you meant you were going to Europe, or somewhere far away," she said, "and that I shouldn't see you any more. I don't know what I should do without you." "And I should miss you very much, too," said Mrs. Randolph, "but nothing so unpleasant is going to happen, I hope. What are your plans for the holidays?" "Oh, nothing in particular. Elsie and I are invited to several parties, and Aunt Julia's sister, Mrs. Ward, is having a tree on Christmas night. I can't help wishing the holidays were over. It will be my first Christmas away from home, you know." "I suppose your family will miss you as much as you miss them," Mrs. Randolph said, sympathetically. "Yes, I know they will, and that is one of the hardest things to bear. I had a letter from Undine to-day, and she says they are all very sad, though they are trying hard to be brave and cheerful." "Who is Undine?" "Oh, haven't I told you about her? She's a girl who lives at the ranch, and we call her Undine, but it isn't her real name." Mrs. Randolph looked interested. "What is her real name?" she asked, anxious to cheer Marjorie by talking of home and friends. Marjorie opened her lips to explain, but suddenly remembered something Beverly had told her. It would be scarcely possible to tell Undine's story without mentioning the fatal subject of the earthquake, so she only said: "We don't know her real name, but the people she lived with before she came to the ranch called her Sally. She didn't like Sally, and asked us to call her something else, and I suggested Undine." Mrs. Randolph laughed. "A rather romantic name for a flesh and blood girl," she said; "how old is your Undine?" "About fifteen, we think, but we are not sure, and she doesn't know herself. Lulu Bell says you have a beautiful home in Virginia. I suppose you will be glad to go there for the holidays." "Yes, we all love it very much. It is a dear old place; my husband's family have lived there for generations, and my old home, where I lived before I married, is only a couple of miles away."