"I couldn't do that," said Marjorie, gravely. "Think how terrible it would have been if Mrs. Randolph had hoped and then been disappointed. I was sure myself, but neither Dr. Randolph nor Beverly believed it could be true. I shall never forget that last evening in Virginia. Beverly and I were both almost ill from excitement, and yet we had to act just as if nothing unusual had happened. Fortunately the doctor and Beverly were to start the first thing in the morning, so we all went to bed early. I don't believe any of us slept a wink; I know I didn't. The day on the train wasn't quite so bad, because Mrs. Patterson was with us, and she hadn't been told anything, and could be natural without trying. I pretended to be very much interested in a book, so as not to have to talk much, but I couldn't tell you what it was about. And all the time Mrs. Randolph was just as sweet and calm as possible, and worried about me because my hands were cold, and I couldn't eat." "I think you were very plucky," said Elsie. The bright color rushed into Marjorie's cheeks; this was the first compliment Elsie had ever paid her. "I wasn't at all plucky," she said, modestly; "any one else would have done the same thing. I'm glad you think I was, though, for I do want you to like me." "Of course I like you," said Elsie, reddening in her turn. "There's the door-bell; I wonder if it's Mamma." "Perhaps it's a letter," cried Marjorie, springing to her feet; "I ought to have a letter from home to-day. I haven't heard a word since that little note from Aunt Jessie the morning after Barbara was found." But it was not a letter. Neither was it Mrs. Carleton, who had gone driving with a friend. In a moment the faithful Hortense appeared with a message. "Madame Randolph has sent to inquire if Mademoiselle Marjorie will come to her apartment for a short time. Her friend has been obliged to go out, and she is alone." Marjorie clasped her hands in dismay, and turned a little pale. "Send word you're very busy, and can't possibly come," suggested Elsie. But Marjorie shook her head. "I shall have to go," she said, with a little gasp. "Mrs. Randolph has been so good to me; she would think it so strange if I didn't come when she sent for me. Say I will be there in a few minutes, Hortense." "You really are a wonder, Marjorie," remarked Elsie, with involuntary admiration, as Hortense left the room with the message. "I'm sure I should never be able to do it." "Yes, you would," said Marjorie, smiling and without another word she followed Hortense out of the room. Marjorie's heart was beating very fast when she rang Mrs. Randolph's bell five minutes later, but when that lady herself opened the door, and greeted her guest with her usual serene cheerfulness, the girl pulled herself together with a mighty effort, and her friend noticed nothing unusual in her manner, except that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shining.