t taken it lying down, the passage of the years
had not been lightened by what seemed to be a daily addition of silver
threads to the jaded ash gold of her hair, and the necessity of a still
more flagrant distribution upon her face of the substances she employed
to camouflage the passage of old Time.

Ah, me! that moment before the stimulating advent of the early cup of
tea, when divested of our motley we see ourselves in the mirror as,
thanks be, others do not, and laying eager hands upon that offspring of
charity, the boudoir cap, wonder if it has been in hobnailed boots that
the old Father has tramped across our face during the night hours,
dragging his scythe behind him.

Leonie's school-days had ended abruptly.

Nothing definite had or could have been said, but it was not likely
that the parents would see exactly eye to eye with their daughters, who
wrote reams and whispered volumes of the delightful mystery which
surrounded the girl who next term would be head of the school.

Long and excited had been the conclaves with the Principal, persuasive
or threatening the arguments used, according to the parental
temperament, and the upshot of it all was that Leonie had been asked to
go; and proud, hurt Leonie had left, with a valiant smile on her lovely
mouth, and a strange little questioning look that had only quite lately
crept into the beautiful eyes, and which neither the outpourings of
Jessica's love, a demonstration of affection from the entire school in
the shape of numerous and weird presents, or the broken-hearted kiss of
both the Principal and Cookie had been able to eradicate.

The girl felt that she had left under a cloud, which a slight attack of
what the doctor had diagnosed as brain fever had not served to line
with silver.

He had insisted upon complete change and rest, and had called twice a
day when Leonie was really ill, and four times when she was
convalescent; so upon fair Devon had they decided, Leonie cajoling and
smiling until she had obtained a year's lease, at an absurdly low rent,
of the little cottage on the left of Lee harbour as you face the sea.

It is a place of charm if you are willing to do most of the work
yourself with the aid of a daily help.

It is certainly rather like a band-box with the lid on, and the ocean
at high tide is only prevented by the harbour wall from invading your
front garden, which is the size of a handkerchief.

But if you sit at the window you can feel t