continuance
of devotion. Love is a delicate plant, which needs care and nourishment
and discreet sheltering, if it is to remain perennially in bloom. The
smile lingered on her lips, however; she rested her head against the
cushions of her chair and cried gratefully--

"Oh, Margot, you do comfort me! You are so nice and human. Do you
really, truly think I am taking things too seriously? Do you think I am
depressing Jack? Wouldn't he think me heartless if I seemed bright and
happy?"

"Try it and see! You can decide according to the effect produced, but
first you must have a tonic, to brace you for the effort. I've a new
prescription, and we are going to Edgware Road to get it this very
hour."

"Quinine, I suppose. Esther and the boys can get it at the chemist's,
but really it will do roe no good."

"I'm sure it wouldn't. Mine is a hundred times more powerful."

"Iron? I can't take it. It gives me headaches."

"It isn't iron. Mine won't give you a headache, unless the pins get
twisted. It's a finer specific for low spirits feminine, than any
stupid drugs. A new hat!"

Edith stared, and laughed, and laughed again.

"You silly girl! What nonsense! I don't need a hat."

"That's nonsense if you like! It depresses me to see you going about in
that dowdy thing, and it must be a martyrdom for you to wear it every
day. Come out and buy a straw shape for something and `eleven-three',"
(it's always "eleven-three" in Edgware Road), "and I'll trim it with
some of your scraps. You have such nice scraps. Then we'll have tea,
and you shall walk part of the way home with me, and meet Jack, and
smile at him and look pretty, and watch him perk up to match. What do
you say?"

Edith lifted her eyes with a smile which brought back the youth and
beauty to her face.

"I say, thank you!" she said simply. "You are a regular missionary,
Margot. You spend your life making other people happy."

"Goodness!" cried Margot, aghast. "Do I? How proper it sounds! You
just repeat that to Agnes, and see what she says. You'll hear a
different story, I can tell you!"

CHAPTER FOUR.

MARGOT'S SCHEME.

The sisters repaired to Edgware Road, and after much searching finally
ran to earth a desirable hat for at least the odd farthing less than it
would have cost round the corner in Oxford Street. This saving would
have existed only in imagination to the ordinary customer, who is
presented with a paper of nail-lik