rdering without interference; and
presently express boxes began to arrive from "the city," which caused
much excitement in the household.

"Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as these," smiled Kate one
day, looking in at the sewing-room where Mag was installed, adding deft
final touches. "Where's Jacky, Jemima? Why isn't she here helping you
two to run ribbons and whip on laces?"

"Oh, Jacky!" The other shrugged. "Where would she be? Galloping about
the country, or playing games with herself down at her precious Ruin, I
suppose. Occasionally she wanders into the sewing-room like a young
cyclone, leaving havoc in her wake. I'd rather not have her assistance,
thank you!"

"Miss Jacky ain't much of a hand with a needle," murmured the girl at
the sewing-machine.

Kate smiled, as she always smiled when she thought of her youngest
daughter. "Bless her heart! I wonder what she's about down there in the
ravine. We haven't heard her singing lately. Do you suppose she has
abandoned grand opera entirely? I think I must go and investigate."

Mag Henderson sat suddenly rigid. It was she who had become,
inadvertently, Jacqueline's second confidante.

A few days before, she had made a discovery which she would have been
torn limb from limb rather than betray; for the weakest natures are
capable of one strong trait, and Mag's was loyalty. Just as she had
tried to defend the father who had sold her into worse than slavery, so
she would defend to the last ditch any member of the family who had
rescued her--more particularly Jacqueline. For Jacqueline had done more
than rescue her; she had kissed her.

She said with a sort of gasp, "Miss Jacky's awful busy, Miss Kate. She
wouldn't like to be disturbed. She's--she's writin' a book."

Kate laughed. "Come now, Mag! not a _book_?"

"Yes'm, she is, 'cause I seen it."

"Well, well, what next?" cried Kate. "What sort of chicken have I
hatched? There've been queer developments in the family, but never a
genius that I know of. We must leave her alone, by all means. Maybe she
will get over it."

Mag breathed more freely; and with the departure next day of Jemima,
accompanied by two trunks and wearing an expression that said plainly,
"I shall return with my shield or on it," Mag's fears for her beloved
Miss Jacky were further allayed. Of late the Storm household had begun
to hold Jemima's seeing eye in even more respect than the Madam's.

Mag had stumbled upon Jacqueline's secre