"I could only try and do my best, and beg her to forgive me if I were intruding," said Doris. "Yes, I believe she ought to be told. You can't tell how she may be worrying about all this. She acts awfully worried, seems to me. Not at all like she did when we first knew her. I believe we ought to tell her right now. Call Genevieve and we'll go over." Sally called to Genevieve, who was playing in the boat on the beach below, and that young lady soon came scrambling up the bank. Hand in hand, all three started to the home of Miss Camilla and when they had reached it, found her sitting on her tiny porch knitting in apparently placid content. But, true to Doris's observation, there were anxious lines in her face that had not been seen a month ago. She greeted them, however, with real pleasure, and with her usual hospitality proffered refreshments, this time in the shape of some early peaches she had gathered only that morning. But Doris who, with Sally's consent, had constituted herself spokesman, before accepting the refreshment, began: "Miss Camilla, I wonder if you'll forgive us for speaking of something to you? It may seem as if we were intruding, but we really don't intend to." "Why, speak right on," exclaimed that lady in surprise. "You are too well-bred to be intrusive, that I know. If you feel you must speak of something to me, I know it is because you think it wise or necessary." Much relieved by this assurance, Doris went on, explaining how she had suddenly had a new idea concerning the mysterious paper and detailing what she thought it might be. As she proceeded, a new light of comprehension seemed to creep into the face of Miss Camilla, who had been listening intently. "So we think it must be a code,--a secret code,--Miss Camilla. And if you happen to have any queer sort of note or communication that you've never been able to make out, why this may explain it," she added. When she had finished, Miss Camilla sat perfectly still--thinking. She thought so long and so intently that it seemed as if she must have forgotten completely the presence of the three on the porch with her. And after what seemed an interminable period, she did a strange thing. Instead of replying with so much as a word, she got up and went into the house, leaving them open-mouthed and wondering. "Do you suppose she's angry with us?" whispered Sally. "Do you think we ought to stay?" "No, I don't think she's angry," replied Doris in a low voice. "I think she's so--so absorbed that she hardly realizes what she's doing or that we are here. We'd better stay." They stayed. But so long was Miss Camilla gone that even Doris began to doubt the wisdom of remaining any longer.