most unfortunately, could not overcome her awe for her aunt, and refused
to expand. To all the questions about her Form, her companions,
teachers, lessons or new experiences, she replied in monosyllables. It
was a sad pity, for Miss Beach had really hoped to win the girl's
confidence and prove a temporary mother to her, but finding her advances
repulsed she also shrank back into her shell, and the intimacy which
might have existed between them was postponed to future years. Young
folks often fail to realize what an interest their doings may have to
grown-up people, and how their bright fresh outlook on life may come as
a tonic to older and wearier minds. It never struck Winona to try to
amuse or entertain her aunt. At her present crude stage of development
she was incapable of appreciating the subtle pathos that clings round
elderly lives, and their wistful longing to be included in the
experiences of the rising generation. Shyness and lack of perception
held her silent, and the empty corner in Aunt Harriet's heart went
unfilled.

Saturday and Sunday were the only days upon which Winona had time to
feel homesick. Her mother had at first suggested her returning to
Highfield for the week ends, but Miss Beach had strongly vetoed the
project on the justifiable ground that even the earliest train from
Ashbourne on Monday mornings did not reach Seaton till 9.30, so that
Winona would lose the first hour's lesson of her school week. She might
have added that she considered such frequent home visits would prove
highly unsettling and interfere greatly with her work, but for once she
refrained from stating her frank opinion, probably deeming the other
argument sufficient, and willing to spare Mrs. Woodward's feelings.

Letters from Highfield showed little change in the usual conduct of
family affairs. The children were still attending Miss Harmon's school,
though they were to leave at Christmas.

"We are late nearly every day now you are not here to make Ernie
start," wrote Mamie, almost as if it were an achievement to be proud of.
"He locked the piano and threw the key in the garden, and we could none
of us practice for three days. Wasn't it lovely? Letty pours out tea if
mother isn't in, and yesterday she broke the teapot."

The chief items of news, however, concerned Percy. That young gentleman,
with what Aunt Harriet considered his usual perversity, had sprained his
ankle on the very day before he ought to have returned to