e after Eppie
was gone. Her aunt treated her with stately politeness, her manner
saying plainly that she was merely waiting for her erring niece to
confess herself mistaken, and ready to make amends. But Elizabeth
still clung forlornly to her resolution. She gained some comfort from
seeing Eppie growing strong and rosy, and much from Mother
MacAllister's counsel.

Annie and John Coulson sympathized, too, though even Annie could not
quite understand.

Just one event broke the monotony of Elizabeth's days before John's
homecoming. This was a visit from Estella and Horace. They drove out
one sunny afternoon and remained to tea. Horace wore an apologetic
air, as though he felt guilty of having jilted Elizabeth, and Estella's
manner was of the same quality, with a dash of triumph. On her way
upstairs to remove her wraps, Estella explained in an ecstatic whisper
that they were really and truly engaged, and didn't Beth think she had
the loveliest diamond ring ever? Horace was such a dear, and the only
thing that marred her perfect happiness was--well, of course it was a
delicate matter--but neither she nor Horry could ever be quite happy
until Beth said she would forgive them.

Too amused to resent the imputation, Elizabeth granted a free and full
pardon, and then the true purport of Estella's visit was revealed.

"What on earth has happened between you and Aunt Jarvis?" she asked,
sitting down on the edge of the bed and fluffing up her light hair
before the mirror. "You see I call her Aunt Jarvis already--I might as
well, you know, we'll be married so soon. Whatever has happened, Beth;
was the old crank nasty to you?"

"Oh, Stella! No, she was always good and kind, but I--oh, I can't
explain, only it was all my fault."

"Well, then, you'd better get to work and make it all right, you silly
thing. Madeline's just out of her head with joy about it. She's quite
the nastiest thing that ever lived, Beth Gordon, even if she is to be
my sister-in-law. Neither she nor old mother Oliver have called on me,
or noticed our engagement in any way, and Madeline's getting ready to
go to the Old Country with Aunt Jarvis--instead of you, Beth, and if
you let her I'll never, never forgive you. We'd just love to take our
wedding-trip to the Old Country--I mean to go abroad, nobody in
Cheemaun ever says the Old Country now--but we can't. Mr. Oliver's as
stingy mean with poor darling Horry as ever he can be. And if Madeline