'I really wish Mrs. Fordyce would mind her own business,' she said, and that was such a very harsh sentence to fall from the lips of Gladys that Miss Peck looked rather startled. 'She has really no right to be writing letters to you dictating what I shall do in my own house. Do you belong to me, or to her, I wonder?' The momentary resentment died away as she asked this question with the old whimsical smile. 'I think she means it for your good, dear,' said the little spinster meekly, 'and I think in some particulars she is right. I never dictate to you, and for that very reason you will listen to what I am going to say. I think you should not make too much of these girls when they are here. Be kind to them, of course, and give them every comfort, but let them eat alone and be companions to each other. I am sure, dear, that would make them much happier, and be better for us all.' 'Do you think so?' Gladys asked, with all the docility of a child. 'Very well, dear Guardy, I will do as you think. But where are they now? I must bid them welcome.' 'They have gone for a walk to the birch wood. And how have you been since you went up to town? Have you been very gay, and seen a great deal of a certain gentleman?' 'No, I saw him once only, and we did not agree,' replied Gladys calmly. 'Do you know, dear Miss Peck, I think it was the greatest mistake for us to get engaged? I don't know in the least what made me do it, and I wish I hadn't.' Miss Peck stood aghast, but presently smiled in a relieved manner. 'Oh, nonsense, my love--only a lover's tiff. When it blows over, you will be happier than ever.' 'I don't like tiffs,' Gladys answered, as she ran up-stairs to take off her wraps.