"Yes," said Elsie sadly. "But I never could keep a bird in a cage. It must be like being in a cage sometimes for them." There was an abrupt movement among the royal party. The last of the illustrious performers had appeared, and it was time to go. Everybody rose once more. Then there was a hurried fight for a tea-room where countesses played hostess. Mrs. Clutterbuck, now finally in the spirit of the thing, moved along blithely. She spoke, however, in low modulated whispers as though she were attending some serious ceremony. "I’m sure your mother would have enjoyed this," she said, as they sat down to ices served in filagree boats. "The countesses and, you know, the general air of the thing--so different to Ridgetown." "Ridgetown!" The girl laughed immoderately. "We couldn’t sit on the stairs at Ridgetown, could we?" Mrs. Clutterbuck was getting away from her subject. "Take some tea, my dear," she said to Mabel in the tone of voice as one who should say, "you will need it." "It’s invigorating after the ice," said the Professor’s wife. Mabel took tea. Now that the great event of the concert was over, they were a little tired, and glad of the idea of fresh air. "Miss Grace, dear--have you heard from Miss Grace lately?" asked Mrs. Clutterbuck. "No. It’s a funny thing," said Mabel. "We supposed it was because of Elma’s illness, you know. Miss Grace would be in such a state. Shall we go now?" They got out and arranged to walk through St. James’ Park together. "I had a message," said Mrs. Clutterbuck quietly, "about Miss Grace. I am to have another when I get back just now. Will you come with me? It’s about Miss Annie. She has been very ill." It was impossible for her to tell them that the same illness as Elma’s had done its work there. They seemed to have no suspicion of that. "Oh, poor Miss Annie!" said Mabel. "If I had only known!" "That was just it; they couldn’t tell you that too with all you had to hear about Elma. Elma is very well now, you understand, but Miss Annie--well, Miss Annie is not expected to live over to-night." The news came to them in an unreal way. It was the break-up of their childhood. That Miss Annie should not always be there, the charming beautiful invalid, seemed impossible. "Oh, but," said Mabel, "she has been so ill before, won’t she get better?" "She was never ill like this before," said Mrs. Clutterbuck. "We will see what the message says." They found a wire at home. At the end of a sparkling day, it came to that. While they had listened to these golden voices, Miss Annie had---- The telegram lay there to say that Miss Annie had died. CHAPTER XXVII The Home-Coming Mr. Leighton departed from his first feelings of hurry where Mabel and Jean were concerned, and delayed their home coming till Elma was in a condition not to be retarded by any extra excitement.