nt reference in every conversation, and away
went the three in happy conclave to turn over the leaves on the library
table, while Evie was left to look after them with wistful eyes, and
Harold to study her face in his turn. She turned to find his eyes fixed
upon her, and struggled hard to speak brightly.

"They all seem so happy--it is good to see them; and how pretty Rhoda
looks to-night! It is so interesting to see the girls grow up, and come
out as full-fledged young ladies. I've seen two transformations to-
day--Rhoda and Tom!"

"Miss Bolderston? Really! Would you call her a transformation?"
queried Harold, raising his eyebrows with an expression which said all
that he dare not put into words. "If that is a transformation, one is
tempted to wonder what she was like before--"

"Don't!" Evie looked at him pleadingly. "Don't make fun of her,
please, because we love her so dearly. Men don't appreciate Tom, and
she doesn't show her best side to them, but she is a splendid girl, and
the truest of friends. She was so kind to me to-day."

"You were talking to her about your work, and worrying because you could
not go back at once!" said Harold shrewdly, and Evie looked at him under
raised, apologetic eyebrows, quite overcome at being read in so easy a
fashion.

"Well--just a little! I said that I could not go back to Hurst, as I
should not be able to take part in games again--"

"And she sympathised with you, and agreed that it was a desperate lot?"

"No, indeed! You don't know Tom! She is far too much of an optimist to
see the black side. She only said she was interested to see what would
happen next, and that it was like being stopped suddenly in the middle
of a story. I thought it was a very cheerful way of looking at it."
She paused, not caring, for some indefinite reason, to say anything of
that later proposition, in the carrying out of which she and Tom were to
grow old side by side; but the idea lay on her mind, and presently she
added dreamily, "But, even if I _am_ lame, my mind is not affected. I
can teach just as well as ever. There must be an opening for me
somewhere. There are plenty of small schools where they don't go in for
sports, plenty of girls who have to be educated at home--delicate girls,
backward girls, girls who are, perhaps, like myself! I could teach them
still if they would let me try--"

It was a very sweet little voice, and the quiver with which it broke off
sounded s