"I don't know, dear; it may be possible, but you mustn't let these things worry you. You are happy here with us, are you not?" "Happy!" cried the girl, with sparkling eyes, "I never expected to be so happy anywhere. As long as I live I shall never forget all you and Mr. and Mrs. Graham have done for me, but I can't help wanting to remember." "Of course you can't; that is quite natural. We all want you to remember, too, but we must have patience. The more you strain your brain, the longer it may take for the memory to come back. You have been a great comfort to us since Marjorie went away; I told her so in my last letter." "I am so glad," said Undine, smiling. "I promised Marjorie I would try, but of course I knew I could never take her place. Oh, Miss Jessie, you said I might read Marjorie's last letter. It came when I was out, you know, and I didn't hear you read it to Mrs. Graham." "So I did, I am glad you reminded me, for I had forgotten all about it. It was written from the place in Virginia where she has been spending the holidays, and tells all about their Christmas festivities. It is in the right-hand drawer of my desk--you may read it whenever you like." Undine glanced at the book in Miss Graham's lap. "If you don't want me for anything, and are going to stay here for a while, I think I will go and read it now," she said; "I love Marjorie's letters." "Very well, dear; I want to finish this book before we begin the one we are going to read together. It won't take me more than fifteen minutes." Undine scrambled to her feet. "All right," she said; "I'll be back before that. Oh, Miss Jessie, isn't the air glorious to-day? It makes me feel so happy and excited; just as if something were going to happen." Undine tripped away to the house, and Miss Graham, as she opened her book, heard the clear young voice singing: "'A Highland laddie lives over the lea; A laddie both noble and gallant and free.'" The song died away in the distance, and Miss Jessie became absorbed in her story. It was very still, and not a sound came to disturb her until she had turned the last page. Then she closed the book, and looked up in surprise. "How long Undine takes to read that letter!" she said to herself, in some surprise. Another ten minutes slipped away, but Miss Jessie was accustomed to waiting patiently--she had done little else for the past eight years. "Susie must have kept the child for something," she decided, and settled comfortably back in her chair to await Undine's return. But it was not like her sister-in-law to detain Undine without sending some explanation; neither was it like the girl to remain away so long. At the end of another ten minutes Miss Jessie began to be a little curious. "What can be the matter?" she said uneasily, her thoughts reverting to a possible accident to her brother, who had gone to try some new horses that afternoon. "I think I'll wheel myself back to the house and find out."