soon to be consoled yet. "No," he
said bitterly, "I have had supper enough, thank you," and hurried away
very fast.

It really did seem as if Kitty was not to reach the Supper-table that
night. Telling Tony to go in and begin his meal, she flew off with the
basket, and, heedless of anything but Dan's request, was just about to
fling it away--fish, basket, and all--when she paused. It was a very
good basket, and Dan had no other. Kitty hesitated, then opened it and
looked in. Six fine trout lay at the bottom on a bed of bracken and wet
moss, evidently placed so that they could look their best.
The sight of Dan's little arrangements brought the tears to her eyes.
No, she could not throw away what he had taken so much pride in.

She turned back and went to the kitchen. "Fanny," she said, "will you
cook these for father's breakfast? Dan has caught them for him."

"And fine and proud he was too," said Fanny, looking in at Dan's catch.

"He was, but he isn't now. I wish," with a deep sigh, "we didn't always
do things the wrong way. I wonder why nothing ever comes quite right
with us?" Then she turned away hastily, that Emily, who at that moment
came into the kitchen, might not see the tears that would start to her
eyes.

When at last Kitty sat down to the meal which she no longer wanted,
every one else had left the table. She was not sorry, for it saved her
from having to make a pretence of eating, and left her free to indulge
in her own moods. It gave her time, too, to think over all that had
happened, and might yet happen.

Before she went up to bed, though, she got a tray, and collecting on it
a tempting meal, carried it to Dan's room. She hoped he would let her
in, for she badly needed a talk with him, but just as she was about to
knock at his door the murmur of voices within arrested her attention.
Whom could Dan have got in there? she wondered in great surprise.
Tony was in bed, and Betty was in her room. She listened more closely,
and nearly dropped the tray in her astonishment, for the voice she heard
was her father's, and she had never before known him go to their rooms
to talk to them.

For a moment her heart sank with dread. Was he still angry? Was he
scolding poor Dan again? he could hardly think so, for it was so unlike
him to be harsh or severe with any of them.

Then, as the voice reached her again, though she caught only the tone of
it, and not a word that was said, she knew that all w