ed to know your father very well indeed," said Miss Betty, as they
walked together to the street, after Rosalind had told the magician
good-by. "As you seem to like going out to tea, I hope you will come and
take supper with me sometime," she added, with a twinkle in her eye.

When she reached home Miss Herbert stood at the gate, and in the door was
Mrs. Whittredge. Rosalind's face was full of brightness as she ran up the
path.

"Grandmamma, I meant only to stay a minute, and then I forgot."

"I have been worried about you, Rosalind," Mrs. Whittredge said gravely.
"Why did you not come to me and tell me where you wished to go? Where have
you been?"

"To see the magician--Morgan, I mean. I wanted so much to see him I did
not think of anything else."

"Why did you wish to see him?" continued her grandmother.

The glow was fading from Rosalind's face. "Because--" she hesitated,
"because--"

"Well?"

"Because I was lonely, grandmamma, and I was afraid I was going to cry. I
promised father I would be brave, and--well--Morgan knows about the
Forest, and is very good to cheer you up. He made tea in the dearest
little teapot, and it was so amusing, I forgot. I am sorry."

"Do you mean you took supper with Morgan? Well, Rosalind, you are
amazing!" Aunt Genevieve spoke from the hall.

"Never mind, Genevieve," said her mother. "I am sorry you were lonely,
Rosalind, but I do not understand why you should go to Morgan. And what do
you mean by the 'forest'?"

Rosalind's face was grave again. "I don't know, grandmamma," she faltered,
and indeed she could not have told if her life had depended on it.

"I think you were very easy on her, mamma. It was certainly naughty of her
to run away," Genevieve remarked, after Rosalind, worn out by the
conflicting experiences of the day, had gone to bed.

Mrs. Whittredge did not reply at once. On her lap lay her granddaughter's
little volume of "As You Like It," and she had been reading the words
about the Forest. It had a way of opening to that page.

"She is a peculiar, fanciful child, and quite old enough to know better.
Professor Sargent may be a brilliant man, but it seems to me he has filled
the child's head full of nonsense. I can't see what Patterson has been
thinking of," Genevieve continued.

"I am not inclined to find much fault with her. I did not expect her to be
perfect. She seems naturally sweet and happy," her mother replied.

"Losing by the way the sacred gift of