"I suppose I am hard," he said, half wonderingly, but very meekly; "when a good woman can pity Dora--that was her name; who am I to judge her? I'll try not to be so hard," he promised. He had risen. Mrs. Richie tried to speak, but stopped and caught her breath at the bang of the front door. "It's David!" she said, in a terrified voice. Her face was very pale, so pale that David, coming abruptly into the room, stood still in his tracks, aghast. "Why, Materna! What's up? Mother, something is the matter!" "It's my fault, David," Robert Ferguson said, abashed. "I was telling your mother a--a sad story. Mrs. Richie, I didn't realize it would pain you. Your mother is a very kind woman, David; she's been sympathizing with other people's troubles." David, looking at him resentfully, came and stood beside her, with an aggressively protecting manner. "I don't see why she need bother about other people's troubles. Say, Materna, I--I wouldn't feel badly. Mr. Ferguson, I--you--" he blustered; he was very much perturbed. The fact was David was not in an amiable humor; Elizabeth had been very queer all the way home. "High and mighty!" David said to himself; treating him as if he were a little boy, and she a young lady! "And I'm seventeen--the idea of her putting on such airs!" And now here was her uncle making his mother low-spirited. "Materna, I wouldn't bother," he comforted her. Mrs. Richie put a soothing hand on his arm. "Never mind," she said; she was still pale, "Yes, it was a sad story. But I thank you for telling me, Mr. Ferguson." He tried awkwardly to apologize for having distressed her, and then took himself off. When he opened his own door, even before he closed it again, he called out, "Miss White!" "Yes, sir?" said the little governess, peering rabbit-like from the parlor. "Miss White, I've been thinking; I'm going to buy Elizabeth a piece of jewelry; a locket, I think. You can tell her so. Mrs. Richie says she's quite sure she isn't really vain in wanting such things." "I have been at my post, sir, since Elizabeth was three years old," Miss White said with spirit, "and I have frequently told you that she was not vain. I'll go and tell her what you say, immejetly!" But when Cherry-pie went to carry the great news she found Elizabeth's door locked. "What? Uncle is going to give me a locket?" Elizabeth called out in answer to her knock. "Oh, joy! Splendid!" "Let me in, and I'll tell you what he said," Miss White called back. "No! I can't!" cried the joyous young voice. "I'm busy!"