She felt so cheered by her soliloquy, which she did not realize to be unconscious self-justification, that she sat down almost happily to write the daily report that went to brighten her mother’s exile. In spite of all domestic accidents and crises, this letter was always written; and the more lugubrious Barbara’s state of mind, the harder she strove for a merry report. She had nearly finished the last sheet, with flying fingers, when a chuckle caused her to look up, and discover that Jack had been reading page after page, as she had discarded it. “Bab,” he said, “you certainly do write the funniest letters I ever read. If you should try to write a story instead of ‘The Absolute In-ness of the Internal Entity,’ you would make your fortune immediately. I don’t see how you can write one way and feel another, as you do.” Barbara’s reply was checked by the appearance of Susan, and Jack disappeared, carrying the letter with him. “I’m so glad to see you!” said Barbara, cordially. “Did you bring your Browning with you?” “Yes,” answered Susan, sitting down in the big cane rocker. “Yes, I brought him, and a basket of mending besides. I am awfully behind in it, and I can talk and darn at the same time.” The glad light faded out of Barbara’s eyes. “Why, Sue dear!” she said, “that’s impossible. No one could possibly study Browning and do anything else at the same time. He absorbs all the energy and attention that one has.” “Oh dear!” sighed Susan. “I did want to begin our lessons to-day, but we’ll have to put it off till to-morrow, then. Bob leaves for New York to-night, you know, and he must have all the socks that I can muster.” “Are you really going to mend those things now, instead of reading the ‘Ring’ with me?” Susan looked up quickly. “Why, what else can I do?” she said. “Bob must have decent clothes, and we can begin the ‘Ring’ to-morrow.” “Very well,” responded Barbara, icily. “Of course Browning doesn’t mean so much to you as he does to me. But I considered our engagement to read this afternoon so binding that I have just lost Mrs. Harris in consequence.” “Lost Mrs. Harris in consequence?” repeated Susan. “Why, Barbara, how?” “She insisted upon putting up tomatoes this afternoon when I couldn’t help her, because of our engagement, and—well, she wouldn’t stay when I was firm,” replied Barbara, wishing that the subject of disagreement had been a little more dignified. “Really, Susan, that woman was insufferable.” “And you let her go for that?” cried Susan, in a surprised voice. “Yes,” answered Barbara. Susan jabbed her big needle into a large sock, with energy. Her friend watched her with uninterested gaze. Suddenly Susan stopped, and looked at Barbara with an expression of determination.