t. Just
think how strong you will grow with your long summer holiday
out-of-doors. You must dig in the garden, and ride horseback, and play
tennis," advised Madge enthusiastically, remembering her own happy
summers at "Forest House," the old Butler home in Virginia.

Miss Jones shook her head wistfully as she rose to leave the room. "I
am afraid I can't have the summer in the country. I have only a sister
with whom to spend the summer, and she lives in a little flat in the
city. She has a large family, and I expect to help her. My parents
are dead."

"Then why don't you go into the country to board somewhere?" flashed
from Madge's lips unexpectedly. A moment after she was sorry she had
asked the question, for a curious, frightened expression crossed her
teacher's face.

Miss Jones hesitated. "I have had to use the money I have made by my
teaching for--for other purposes," she explained, in the stiff, cold
manner that seemed so unattractive to gracious, sunshiny Madge. "I am
sorry to have worried you with my troubles," Miss Jones said again.
"Please forgive me and forget what I have told you. I shall probably
do very well."

Madge went slowly back to her room in a most unhappy frame of mind.
She knew a way in which Miss Jones would be able to spend her summer
out-of-doors, and perhaps grow well and strong again. She could be
invited to chaperon the houseboat party. She knew her friends would
immediately agree to the idea. They liked Miss Jones far better than
she did. Even if they had not liked her, sympathy would have inspired
them to extend the invitation. It was she alone who would hesitate.
Of course, she never expected to be as good as her friends. So Madge
argued with herself. It was too dreadful to give up the idea of asking
her adored "Lady of Quality" to act as their guardian angel. Madge
decided she simply could not make the sacrifice. Then, too, she did
not even know whether her uncle and aunt would consent to the houseboat
party. It would be time enough afterward to deliver her last
invitation.

For two days, which seemed intolerably long to impatient Madge Morton,
the four friends waited to hear their fate from Mr. and Mrs. Butler.

On the third morning a letter addressed to Madge in Mrs. Butler's
handwriting was handed to her while she and her chums were at
breakfast. In her great excitement her hands trembled so that she
could hardly finish her breakfast. "Here, Eleanor," Madg