She left the school-room just as the warning-bell was ringing and crossed the campus to The Hermitage, longing for letters. On her desk she found a package and a telegram, which, when she had read it, made her tired face glow with happiness. “Dear Bob!” she said to herself. “He deserves it all. I’m so glad!” “His picture has come back, too,” she added, untying the package, “just in time for the good news. You dear old fellow! You deserve a silver frame, and the nicest girl in the world.” There came a knock at her door just then, and the maid passed her a long box from the florist’s. Surprised, she opened it to find dozens of yellow daffodils, and a card, which said in carefully disguised handwriting, “With deepest love, and tenderest sympathy.” “Why, what can it mean?” she thought mystified. “I always need the love, but I certainly don’t need sympathy. I never was so happy in my life!” The supper-bell rang just then, and put a stop to her wonderings. She dressed hurriedly, placed some daffodils at her waist, and descended to the dining-room, a trifle late, but wholly radiant. “She surely doesn’t look sad to-night,” mused more than one at the table. “Could the flowers have made her happier so soon, or what is it?” Half an hour before study hour, Miss Wallace called Virginia to her room. “I know you love daffodils, Virginia,” she said, “and I want you to see this gorgeous quantity which some mysterious person has sent me. And the strangest part about it is that they come with ‘tenderest sympathy.’ It’s especially funny to-night, because I’m so happy. I think I really must tell you about it.” Virginia’s heart beat fast with excitement. Was this beloved teacher of hers really going to confide in her? Her eyes followed Miss Wallace’s to the dresser, and there, reclothed in a shining silver frame, was Mr. Taylor—Miss Wallace’s own Mr. Taylor! So it had been only a misunderstanding after all! The dream of Miss Wallace’s life was not dead, but living, and she was happy! One glance at her face was proof of that! Virginia was so happy herself that she longed to tell her so; but perhaps she had best not just now. Besides, what was Miss Wallace saying? “I don’t know that I’ve ever told you about my cousin, Robert Taylor, Virginia. You’ve seen his picture of course—that is till recently when I sent it away to have it framed. To-night I had a cable from him, telling me that he’s actually engaged to the dearest girl I know. We’ve both been hoping for it for months—I almost as much as he—and Mary’s just decided that she can’t get along without him. I’m so delighted!” It seemed impossible that Virginia’s heart could have undergone such a metamorphosis as it had in the last minute. “Is—? is—he your cousin?” she asked in a queer, strained little voice. But Miss Wallace was so happy that she did not notice it.