e her happy! To think that she dared not tell her
Grandmother and Aunt that she was engaged to Alden! Madame's cheeks grew
warm with resentment in the girl's behalf. Motherless, friendless,
alone, with Life's great cup of wonder in her rough, red hands!

[Sidenote: "Fussed Over"]

A tap at the door made her start. "Come in!" she called.

It was Edith, trig and tailor-made, in dark green, with a crisp white
linen shirtwaist, an immaculate collar, and a dashing green tie.

"Mr. Marsh has invited me to go for a drive after luncheon," she said,
"and he asked me to come and see if you weren't almost ready. May I do
your hair for you?"

Madame submitted, not because she cared to have her hair done, but
because she liked to be "fussed over," as she put it. There was
something very pleasant in the touch of Edith's cool, soft hands.

"You're--you're not going to change the way I do it, are you?" she
asked, a little anxiously.

"No, indeed! I wouldn't change it for anything. It suits you just as it
is."

"I'm glad you think so, for I've always worn it like this. Alden
wouldn't know me if I became fashionable."

[Sidenote: It Isn't Right]

"He doesn't look a bit like you," said Edith, irrelevantly.

"No, but he's the living image of his father, and I'm very glad. It
keeps me from--from missing him too much," Madame's voice broke a little
on the last words.

"It must be lovely to be missed," said Edith, quickly. "Now I----"

"Dear, haven't you told him yet?"

"He's probably discovered it by this time. Still, I don't know--I've
only been away a week."

"It isn't right," said Madame, decidedly. "You must let him know where
you are."

"Why? I never know where he is."

"That doesn't make any difference. Two wrongs never make one perfect
right. If you do your part, things will be only half wrong, instead of
entirely so."

"I'll do whatever you think best," said Edith, humbly. "I came to you
because I could think for myself no longer. I'll write him a note before
luncheon, if you say so, and post it this afternoon."

"I do say so."

Therefore luncheon waited for a few moments, to Alden's secret
impatience, until Edith came down with her note. She offered it to
Madame, doubtfully. "Want to see it?"

"No, dear. I'll trust you."

She sealed it with shamefaced gladness that Madame had not availed
herself of the opportunity. She was quite sure that her counsellor would
not approve of the few formal lines which we