rs. Grant afterwards. "I believe he was, too. His
body was right there on the step before me, but where his soul was is
more than you or I or anybody can tell."

"Good morning," he said absently. "I have just called on my way to
school with a message from Miss Millar. She wants you all to come up
and have Christmas dinner with her tomorrow."

"For the land's sake!" said Mrs. Grant blankly. "I don't understand."
To herself she thought, "I wish I dared take him and shake him to find
if he's walking in his sleep or not."

"You and all the children--every one," went on the teacher dreamily,
as if he were reciting a lesson learned beforehand. "She told me to
tell you to be sure and come. Shall I say that you will?"

"Oh, yes, that is--I suppose--I don't know," said Mrs. Grant
incoherently. "I never expected--yes, you may tell her we'll come,"
she concluded abruptly.

"Thank you," said the abstracted messenger, gravely lifting his hat
and looking squarely through Mrs. Grant into unknown regions. When he
had gone Mrs. Grant went in and sat down, laughing in a sort of
hysterical way.

"I wonder if it is all right. Could Cornelia really have told him? She
must, I suppose, but it is enough to take one's breath."

Mrs. Grant and Cornelia Millar were cousins, and had once been the
closest of friends, but that was years ago, before some spiteful
reports and ill-natured gossip had come between them, making only a
little rift at first that soon widened into a chasm of coldness and
alienation. Therefore this invitation surprised Mrs. Grant greatly.

Miss Cornelia was a maiden lady of certain years, with a comfortable
bank account and a handsome, old-fashioned house on the hill behind
the village. She always boarded the schoolteachers and looked after
them maternally; she was an active church worker and a tower of
strength to struggling ministers and their families.

"If Cornelia has seen fit at last to hold out the hand of
reconciliation I'm glad enough to take it. Dear knows, I've wanted to
make up often enough, but I didn't think she ever would. We've both
of us got too much pride and stubbornness. It's the Turner blood in us
that does it. The Turners were all so set. But I mean to do my part
now she has done hers."

And Mrs. Grant made a final attack on the dishes with a beaming face.

When the little Grants came home and heard the news, Teddy stood on
his head to express his delight, the twins kissed each other, and Ma