moment Beverly also turned, and, with
an exclamation of dismay, hastily sprang to his feet, and hurried to
his mother's side.

"Oh, Mother dear, I'm so sorry!" cried the boy, dropping on his knees,
and trying to draw Mrs. Randolph's hands down from her face. "I never
thought; it was very careless. Oh, Mother darling, please don't
cry--please forgive me!"

At the sound of her son's voice, Mrs. Randolph looked up, and tried to
smile through her tears.

"Never mind, dear," she said, gently, "it was very foolish of me, but
that song--you know how fond she was of it."

"Yes, Mother, I know; I was a brute to have forgotten." And Beverly put
his strong young arms tenderly round his mother. Mrs. Randolph laid her
head on his shoulder for a moment, as if she found comfort in the touch,
and then she roused herself with an effort, dried her eyes, and turned
to Marjorie.

"You must excuse me for being so foolish, dear," she said, "but that was
my little Barbara's favorite song; she was always asking Beverly to sing
it. I don't think I have heard it since--since she went away."

There were tears of sympathy in Marjorie's eyes, and although she said
nothing, the look she gave her friend touched Mrs. Randolph, and
perhaps comforted her more than any words would have done.

[Illustration: "OH, MOTHER DEAR, I'M SO SORRY!"--_Page 243._]

Beverly did not sing again, but quietly closed the piano, and for the
rest of the afternoon his merry boyish face was unusually grave.

"You have given me a great deal of pleasure," Mrs. Randolph said, when
Marjorie at last rose to go. "I hope you will come again to-morrow. It
is very tiresome to have to stay in the house all day, especially when
one hasn't the solace of reading."

Marjorie said she would surely come again, and then she hurried back to
their own apartment, where she found her aunt and cousin, who had come
in some time before.

Mrs. Carleton had read Marjorie's note, and had no objection to the
girl's spending as much time with the invalid as she liked.

"Was Beverly at home?" Elsie inquired, anxiously, following her cousin
to her room.

"He was there some of the time," said Marjorie; "he had lessons to do at
first, but he came in for tea. Mrs. Randolph asked him to sing--he has a
beautiful voice."

"You certainly have a way of getting what you want," remarked Elsie
in a rather dissatisfied tone; "I wonder how you manage."

"Manage what?" demanded Marjorie in amazement;