When Marjorie and Beverly had eaten so many waffles that they felt as though they should not require anything more in the way of food for days, Mammy reluctantly desisted from her hospitable efforts to force another plateful upon her visitors, and the hospitably entertained young people rose to go. "I've had a lovely time," declared Marjorie, heartily. "It was dear of you to let me come, Mammy; I shall never forget it." "Any frien' of de Randolph fam'ly is always welcome to my cabin," said Mammy, with the air of a queen dispensing hospitality to her subjects. "Would you like to see de fam'ly pictures 'fo' you go?" Marjorie said she would like nothing better, and while Beverly went out to untie the horses, she followed Mammy into her tiny bedroom, the walls of which were literally covered with photographs. "Dis," announced Mammy, pausing in the doorway, and pointing to a gentleman in uniform, "is Mas'r Will Randolph, Mas'r Bev'ly's gran'father, took in de clothes he wore when he went to de wah. Dis lady is his wife, de mis' Randolph dat brought up my maw; a gran' lady she was too. Dis is Mas'r Bev'ly's father when he went away to school, jes after de wah was over. Dis one is Mas'r Bev'ly's maw in her first ball dress. Dat's Mas'r Bev'ly when he was a baby, and here's Miss Babs in her fust short clothes. Over on dis side is Mas'r Bev'ly when he was seven, and dis is--oh, good Lordie, Missy, whatever is de matter?" Marjorie--who had been following Mammy from one photograph to another, with amused interest--had suddenly uttered a sharp cry of astonishment, and was staring blankly at the photograph of a girl of twelve, which was occupying the place of honor over Mammy's bed. "Who--who is that?" she gasped, seizing the old woman's arm, and beginning to tremble with excitement. "Dat Miss Babs, took jes' 'fo' she went away to Californy," said Mammy, sadly. "Land sakes, Missy! What is it? You jes' sit right down heah, an' I'll go call Mas'r Bev'ly." When Beverly appeared in answer to Mammy's hasty summons, he found Marjorie ghastly white, and shaking from head to foot. "Good gracious, Marjorie!" exclaimed the boy, springing to her side, "what's the matter? Don't you feel well--is it the waffles?" "It's--it's Undine!" faltered Marjorie, with shaking lips, and she pointed to the photograph on which her eyes still rested, in a wild, incredulous stare. [Illustration: "LAND SAKES, MISSY! WHAT IS IT?"--_Page 283._] "'Undine,'" repeated Beverly, stupidly, "who is Undine? That is the picture of my sister Barbara." "It's Undine," repeated Marjorie, with obstinate persistence; "it's exactly like her; I would know her anywhere." "But who is Undine? I never even heard of her?"