ave many little things
to attend to, Roger. It is almost Christmas, you remember, and--"

"Oh, here are your letters; I almost forgot!" cried the little fellow
suddenly, drawing from his pocket several envelopes. "Nat went to the
post-office while you were at breakfast."

The boy tossed the missives down and ran off. Dorothy glanced over her
mail. There were several letters from her school friends, as she could
tell by the writing, and some from acquaintances in Dalton. Then this
one--who could it be from?--postmarked in a city from which she had never
received any mail, and the address written in a strange hand.

She opened this one first, and this is what she read:

"MY DEAR MISS DALE--This letter will undoubtedly
surprise you. It is a strange Christmas letter for me to have to
write. You may have forgotten my name, but I am the woman
detective whom you met in Boardman's. I hardly know how to pen
the words, but--_I put that ring into your bag_!

"I am a very wretched woman, but to make this confession to you
may, in a measure, at least, tend to soften the bitterness that
rankles in my heart.

"It would be useless for me to try to explain why I did you such
a wrong--perhaps if I could talk with you it would be different.

"Try to forgive me--try to know how wretched I am--sick, without
work and without means.

"But even pity seems bitter to me now--life has all gone wrong,
and only the thought of your innocent face, and the black guilt
I tried to fasten on you, has given me the strength to write
this letter.

"Ah, what a mockery Christmas is to the unfortunate!

"Yours, in sorrow,

"LOUISE DEARING."

CHAPTER XXII

STORMBOUND AT TANGLEWOOD

Dorothy dropped the letter in her lap. She was awed, surprised,
distressed. Then, Miss Brooks did not take the ring? And why should the
woman detective do such a thing?

For an instant only that thought occupied her. The next she pitied Miss
Dearing.

"Poor woman!" she sighed to herself. "After all, perhaps she is really a
victim of circumstances. And what a letter! If I only could help her--see
her before Christmas."

A smile, unbidden, stole across Dorothy's face as she pictured all the
tasks she had undertaken to accomplish "before Christmas."

"Luckily there are a few days left," she concluded "One can crowd a great
many things int