of will in a mould of serenity, with her soft
yellow coils of hair and her still childish figure, was charming.
After that one glance at Evelyn, with her astonishing beauty, he
thought no more about her. When his address was finished the usual
routine of the school began.

He did not see Maria again all day. She had her own class-room, and
at noon she and Evelyn ate their luncheon together there. Evelyn did
not say a word about the new principal. She was very quiet. She did
not eat as usual.

"Don't you feel well, dear?" asked Maria.

"Yes, sister," replied Evelyn. Then suddenly her lips quivered and a
tear rolled down the lovely curve of her cheek.

"Why, Evelyn, precious, what is the matter?" asked Maria.

"Nothing," muttered Evelyn. Then suddenly, to her sister's utter
astonishment, the young girl sprang up and ran out of the room.

Maria was sure that she heard a muffled sob. She thought for a second
of following her, then she had some work to do before the afternoon
session, and she also had a respect for others' desires for secrecy,
possibly because of her long carrying about of her own secret. She
sat at her table with her forehead frowning uneasily, and wrote, and
did not move to follow Evelyn.

Evelyn, when she rushed out of the class-room, took instinctively her
way towards a little but dense grove in the rear of the academy. It
was a charming little grove of firs and maples, and there were a
number of benches under the trees for the convenience of the pupils.
It was rather singular that there was nobody there. Usually during
the noon-hour many ate their luncheons under the shadow of the trees.
However, the wind had changed, and it was cool. Then, too, the
reunions among the old pupils were probably going on to better
advantage in the academy, and many had their luncheons at a near-by
restaurant. However it happened, Evelyn, running with the tears in
her eyes, her heart torn with strange, new emotion which as yet she
could not determine the nature of, whether it was pain or joy, found
the grove quite deserted. The cold sunlight came through the golden
maple boughs and lay in patches on the undergrowth of drying
golden-rod and asters. Under the firs and pines it was gloomy, and a
premonition of winter was in the air. Evelyn sat down on a bench
under a pine-tree, and began to weep quite unrestrainedly. She did
not know why. She heard the song of the pine over her head, and it
seemed to increase her appa