Yanna was much disturbed by the decision she was now compelled to make. If she went to Mrs. Wyk's Harry might call while she was from home, and then he would be certain her absence was premeditated. Yet if she did not go to Mrs. Wyk's, she would neglect an evident duty for an uncertain personal pleasure; and then, if Harry did not come, she would have disappointed her relative, she would "be out" with herself, and yet have done nothing towards being reconciled to her lover. The child who brought the message stood looking at her impatiently. It was near the school hour, and the answer was to be taken back, and Yanna was one of those women who hate to be hurried. She could not decide with that restless boy looking into her eyes and standing on tiptoes to be gone. She said, "Wait a moment, Willie," and she ran into the parlor, shut the door, and stood silently in the darkened room to consider. Her hands hung clasped before her, her eyes were cast down, and in a painful suspense of self-seeking, she asked her heart, "What shall I do? What shall I do?" Thus she waited; wistful, intent, sorrowful, until the answer came. It came from her own conscience: "_One can always do right!_" "True!" She accepted the response immediately. "One can always do right! That settles the most difficult question. And it is right to put the pleasure of the sick and aged before my own pleasure. I will go and read to Aunt Wyk." She thought it no violation of duty, however, to hurry her departure, and thus be able to get the reading finished by three o'clock. Then she began to put on her hat and cloak, and Mrs. Wyk said: "What are you in such a hurry for, Yanna? Sit down, I want to tell you about my winter apples. I have been so badly used by old Van Winkle." "I am in a hurry this afternoon, auntie. The Filmers are leaving Woodsome, and I think some of them will want to see me. Rose was at our house yesterday--but----" "Oh, yes! the Filmers! the Filmers! Nobody but the Filmers! Your own mother's kin is not to be thought of if the Filmers but ring at your doorstep." "Dear auntie, you should not talk in that way. I will come to-morrow afternoon and finish the book." "Thank you! But the Filmers may want you." And the old lady made no response to Yanna's kiss, nor did she answer her twice repeated "Good afternoon, aunt."