owed up all others; but now, as he himself reveals this other
truth to her, she feels that her cup is indeed full.

Deeper and deeper grows the crimson tint that dyes her pale, shy face,
until her cheeks are all aflame. Something like anger, too, is rendering
her sweet eyes brilliant beyond their wont. Delicately but haughtily she
gathers up the train of her white gown and casts one expressive glance
upon the way she came. This glance says much. Somehow it tells him as
distinctly as though she said it aloud that she is sorry she ever came
down to this river, and that her sorrow arises from the fact that it was
here she encountered him.

While he is still sore perplexed by her sudden change of demeanor, she
turns away from him. Then, pausing, she turns again, and bestows upon
him so indignant a look as completely finishes this ill used young man.

"I object to hasty friendships," she says, icily. "And," pausing as if
to make the effect greater, "if I were _you_, I think I should seek some
better employment than standing _idling all day long_ at your uncle's
gate."

With this parting shaft, and before he can recover from his
consternation, she goes swiftly away from him, up through the meadows,
home.

CHAPTER V.

How Monica is put in possession of a dreadful secret--And how Kit
protests against the injustice of the world.

"An invitation from Madam O'Connor," says Miss Priscilla in a pleased
tone, glancing at them all, over the top of her spectacles. She has the
card in her hand, and slowly reads aloud the information printed upon
it, to the effect that Madam O'Connor will be at home on Friday the
15th, from four to six o'clock, etc.

"I am very glad she has asked Terence and Monica," says Miss Penelope.
"Excessively attentive I call it."

"Will you go, Aunt Priscilla?" asks Monica, in a sneaky sort of tone.
Her young soul hankers after the world, and will not be subdued. Upon
Miss Priscilla's "yes" or "no" she waits with an anxiety that surprises
even herself.

"Certainly, my dear," says Miss Blake, drawing herself up. "I shall feel
it my duty to take you to all such places as will enable you to mix with
people in your own rank of life. I am not one of those who think it well
for young girls to lead the life of nuns. No, indeed!"

"I quite agree with you, my dear Priscilla," says Miss Penelope, who is
an echo of her elder sister. "Yes, we will rouse ourselves, and once
more seek the world."

"