eling, what joy, what rapture to have Cornelia settled in
England; to look forward to a life of constant intercourse! Cornelia
had helped her; according to her lights Elma was determined to help
Cornelia also.

With disconcerting swiftness a return telegram arrived from Liverpool
stating that owing to illness a passenger had been suddenly obliged to
resign a state-room on the boat sailing on the following Saturday, and
that the accommodation would be reserved pending Miss Briskett's
confirmation. An immediate reply was requested.

Cornelia gasped and hesitated. Four days! _Only_ four days, and then
farewell to England and English friends. She had not expected anything
so speedy as this. During these summer months berths were engaged so
long ahead that it was generally a most difficult thing to arrange for a
speedy passage. She had been told of this over and over again; had
known of her friends' difficulties in such matters; in the background of
her mind had counted on a similar delay in her own case. In a week or a
fortnight much might happen, but in four days! She stood battling with
temptation, while Mary watched her with anxious eyes. No one but
herself knew the purport of the message; no one need know if the answer
were a refusal. Two or three scribbled words would give her a reprieve.
... Poor Cornelia! She realised afresh how easy it was to be brave in
anticipation, how bitterly hard in actual fact. She was silent so long
that Mary summoned up courage to ask a question--

"Is it bad news, miss?"

Cornelia stared at her blankly for a moment, and valiantly forced a
smile.

"I guess there's two sides to it, as there are to most things in this
world. My Poppar'll think it splendid, but you'll hate it badly enough.
I'm going pretty quick, Mury! You won't have me but four days more!"

The truth was out. She had burned her boats, and made retreat
impossible. While Mary wept and lamented, Cornelia wrote the
confirmatory wire, and sent it out to the waiting messenger. Then Mary
returned to continue her lamentations.

"I wish I could marry him, and be done with it! I can't seem to face
staying on here with no one but her in the house, nagging at us all the
day. I'll have to make another move!" she proclaimed dismally. In
Mary's converse the singular pronoun, when masculine, always applied to
her friend; when feminine, to her mistress. Cornelia had grasped this
fact, and had therefore no diffic