er. I do
not believe that you can bestow a greater benefit upon a fellow-being
than to ask Miriam to pay you a visit while you are at the seaside. Think
of this, I beg of you, my dear Dora."

This letter was read and re-read with earnest attention. Dora was fond
of Miriam in a way, and would be very glad to give her a glimpse of
seaside life. Moreover, Miriam's companionship would be desirable; for
although Miss Bannister did not expect to lack acquaintances, there
would be times when she could not call upon these, and Miriam could
always be called upon.

After a consultation with Mrs. Bannister, who was pleased with the idea
of having some one to go about with Dora, when she did not feel like
it,--which was almost all the time,--Dora wrote to Miriam, asking her to
come and visit her during the rest of her stay at Barport. While
writing, Dora was not at all annoyed by the thought which made her stop
for a few minutes and look out of the window,--that possibly Miriam
might not like to make the journey alone, and that her brother might
come with her. She did not, however, mention this contingency, but
smiled as she went on writing.

Miriam, attired in her teaberry gown, came up from the Cobhurst kitchen,
and walked out toward the garden. She was not in good spirits. She had
already found that La Fleur was a woman superior to influences from any
power derived from the wearing of Judith Pacewalk's pink chintz dress.
She was convinced that at this moment that eminent cook was preparing a
dinner for the benefit of the Dranes, without any thought of the tastes
or desires of the mistress of the house or its master. And yet she could
find nothing to say in opposition to this; consequently, she had walked
away unprotesting, and that act was so contrary to her disposition that
it saddened her. If she had supposed that a bad meal would be the result
of the bland autocracy she had just encountered, she would have been
better satisfied; but, as she knew the case would be quite otherwise, her
spirits continued to fall. Even the meat, that morning, had been ordered
without consultation with her.

As Miriam walked dolefully toward the garden gate, Ralph came riding from
Thorbury with the mail-bag, and in it was the letter from Dora.

"Oh, Ralph!" cried Miriam, when, with her young soul glowing in her face,
she thrust the open letter into her brother's hand, "may I go? I never
saw the sea!"

Of Ralph's decision there could be no q