l has steadied herself,
her father, to whom she has already written, will come, and what she will
do in the autumn will be arranged. Everything is as yet vague; but one
thing she has decided for herself--under no circumstances will she again
live with her mother, and she is now staying quietly in the house and
taking her meals in her room, in order to give the scandalmongers and
gossips as little material as possible.

Lavinia Dorman, who readily consented to do as she asked, says that
Sylvia is brave and heartbroken at the same time, that all her girlish
spontaneity has gone, and she is like a statue.

I am so sorry to have Miss Lavinia go, even a few hundred yards down the
road, it has seemed so good to have an older woman in the house to whom I
can say, "Would you, or wouldn't you?" Martin is also quite upset, and
has stopped writing and begun fumbling and pulling the reference books
about again; but Miss Lavinia says that she is not going to give up the
afternoon reading, for she thinks the history is a work of importance not
to be slighted, and that Sylvia will doubtless take up her own reading
and practising after a time; that while she herself has willingly
consented to chaperon her, she does not intend to give up her own
freedom, nor would it be good for Sylvia if she did.

Yesterday morning Miss Lavinia received a letter from Sylvester Latham,
thanking her for the offer of temporary protection for his daughter, and
telling her, in curt business terms, meant to be affable, to name her own
price for the office.

I have never before seen the ladylike Lavinia Dorman so completely and
ungovernably angry. I could do nothing with her, and last evening it took
the united efforts of Martin, father, and Evan to convince her that it
was not a real affront. Poor Mr. Latham, he has not yet gotten beyond
money valuation of friendship; but then it is probably because he has had
no chance. Perhaps--but no, life is too serious just now in that quarter
for me to allow myself remotely pleasant perhapses.

Miss Lavinia was too agitated to play piquet to-night, so she and Martin
sat in the porch where the light from the hall lamp was sufficient to
enable them to play a couple of games of backgammon, to steady her
nerves, she said; and presently, as the dice ceased rattling, Evan gave
me a nudge of intelligence, and looking over I found that they had
reversed the board and were playing "Give away" with checkers.

"After this,