elf repeating a long-forgotten poem as I took up another stupid
report. I even hummed a tune, something I had not done in twenty years.

Just before the dinner hour Jane and Zura came into the living-room.
Evidently their work in a common cause put them on the friendliest
terms. They were arm in arm, and I knew by the set of Jane's collar and
the rose in her hair that young and skilful hands had been at work.
Zura's white dress was dainty enough, but it seemed to melt into nothing
about the neck and sleeves. It must have been brought from America, as I
had seen none like it. Nobody could deny, however, that with her face,
all aglow beneath her lustrous hair, she was a goodly sight for young
and old.

"Isn't she the very sweetest thing?" asked Jane as they approached,
adding wistfully, "But I truly wish her dear nose didn't tilt up!"

Zura with stern, forbidding brows, but laughing eyes, rebuked the
wisher. "See here, Miss Jinny Gray, that is the only nose I have, if it
is sudden. I've worked hard to coax it in the straight and narrow path.
I've even slept on my face for a week at a time." Then with swift,
dramatic gestures as the gong sounded at the entrance-door, she
whispered, "Hush! The man of mystery doth appear!"

Page Hanaford came in. All our tempting tonics and special dishes had
failed to curve the angles in the boy's face and body. He still looked
ill. The brooding sadness that frequently overshadowed his lighter moods
troubled me.

When he caught sight of Zura, his alertness of manner was pleasing and
the kind of joy-look in his eyes did me good. I guessed he was downright
glad to see something youthful hovering around the "Misty Star." I was
glad too, but the situation did not seem to call for hurrahs and
fireworks. Two young American people meeting, shaking hands, and
courteously greeting each other was an unusual sight to me, but after
all a natural one. Page said he had been obliged to forego the pleasure
of seeing us, as he had been very busy organizing his new classes. He
was glad to come again.

We went at once to dinner. I wondered from where the new "chefess" and
her assistant "potato peeler" had procured the materials necessary to so
pretentious a meal. Though surprised, I soon learned that Jane Gray was
mistress of the art of making something beautiful out of nothing.

We sat down to the softly-lighted table. The china was old and somewhat
chipped, but on its white background a design in ten