and
so insignificant that one wonders how it could cause such discomfort. But
it is those miserable little chestnut-prickles that are hardest to bear in
this life, and so warp one's character that it is often unfitted to bear
the heavier burdens which must come into all lives sooner or later.

CHAPTER XIX

"FATAL OR FATED ARE MOMENTS"

"Nobody has ever spoken to me as you have, Miss Preston," Toinette began
presently, "and I can't tell you how I feel. Maybe heaven will be better,
but I don't believe I shall ever feel any happier than I feel this minute.
It seems as though I'd been living in a sort of prison, all shut up in the
dark, and that now I am out in the sunshine and as free as the birds. But
I must tell you something more: I can't rest content unless I do. The
letter I posted to-day wasn't to papa, I sent it to Howard Elting, in
Branton, and it isn't the first I've written him, either. I didn't lie
about the other one, Miss Preston; I was ready to mail it, but lost it; I
don't know how. Somebody must have found it and posted it, for he got it
and answered it, and I was so puzzled over it that I wrote again. That was
the letter you saw me post. Now, that is the truth, and I know that you
believe me."

Toinette had spoken very rapidly, scarcely pausing for breath, and when
she finished gave a relieved little sigh and looked Miss Preston squarely
in the eyes. Truly, her self-respect was regained.

Will some of my readers say: "What a tempest in a teapot?" To many this
may seem a very trivial affair, but how small a thing can influence our
lives! A breath, the passing of a summer shower, may help or hinder plans
which alter our entire lives. And Miss Preston was wise enough to
understand it. Here was a beautiful soul given for a time into her
keeping. Now, at the period of its keenest receptive powers, a delicate
and sensitive thing needing very gentle handling.

Stroking the head again resting upon her shoulder, as though it had found
a safe and happy haven after having been tossed about upon a troubled sea,
she said, quietly:

"I posted the letter, dear; I found it in the hall where it had been
dropped; it never occurred to me that there was any cause for concealment;
the girls all correspond with their friends; it is an understood thing. I
recognized your writing, and, as I had friends at Branton, I wrote to ask
if they knew the person written to. They replied that they did, and told
me who he was