Dorothy's enthusiasm further than to
say:

"To me it seems wisest to content one's self with the station in which
one has been born. To step aside from the normal path in life--"

Foreseeing a "lecture," Dorothy interrupted:

"Beg pardon, Miss Muriel, but there's Win yonder this minute, walking
with her head down as if she were worrying. She thought her father was
coming home next week and he isn't, and she's so disappointed. She's
reading his letter over again. She said, when I asked her why she was
so blue, that it didn't seem like home here any longer with you
offended, and he wasn't coming, and she had no real home anywhere. Oh!
you needn't be afraid of darling Win doing anything crooked again. Do
love her and take her back into your trust, and may I go now to tell
her she can go nutting and about Saturday, and may I hurry up?"

Without waiting an instant longer, Dorothy took permission for granted
and ran out of the house. In reality, she had grieved far more over
Winifred's punishment, by being kept on bounds and denied some other
privileges, than that lively young person had herself.

Winifred was ashamed, but she wasn't unhappy. Only now this letter of
her father's, and the longing to see him, had sobered her greatly. Yet
she was ready enough for the next amusement that might offer and
looked up eagerly as Dorothy ran towards her across the lawn, crying:

"Don't look so forlorn, Win! We can go--you can go--"

"They can go!" finished the other, her mood quickly changing at sight
of Dorothy's beaming face. "Where can they go, how can they go, when
can they go, Teacher?"

"Nutting, with Miss Aldrich's class. On their feet. With baskets and
bags and the boot-boy with poles to thresh the trees and carry the
nuts! and on Saturday to old John's cottage to hear the Robin sing!"

"Oh! do you mean it? Do you? Then I know I'm all right with Miss
Muriel again and I must go and thank her."

Away hurried the impulsive girl and in the Lady Principal's room was
presently an interview that was delightful to both. For in her heart,
beneath a cold manner, Miss Tross-Kingdon kept a warm love for this
wild pupil of hers; and was as ready to believe in Winifred's promises
as the girl was to make them.

The late autumn day was uncommonly fine. Not only Miss Aldrich, but
most of the other teachers, were to take their classes to a distant
forest on their annual nutting excursion, from which, this year,
Winifred had felt she