others, if they ask, that I was homesick. Never was a
truer word spoken. People have died of homesickness, haven't they,
Thinkright? I thought I might die of it if I had to stay there one more
night."

Her companion did not smile at this extravagance. He was wise, and knew
that a wound which is resisted and thrown off by experienced and
case-hardened maturity does often crush the thin skin of youth.

"Well, we shall all be thoroughly glad to get you back again, dear," he
replied. "There's been a yawning hole in the house ever since you left,
and Minty actually shed tears last evening in her disappointment that
you didn't stay."

"Dear little Minty," said Sylvia, gratefully.

"The tears and affection were very genuine," said Thinkright smiling,
"but the situation is more acute owing to the fact of your rowboat, and
that she has been forbidden to use it without you."

"Poor little thing. I don't wonder. I'll take her soon, or she'll take
me; but this afternoon can I stay with you a while? Have you time to
talk to me, and read with me? I'm a heathen, and need a missionary."

"You're not; but I'll help you to know you're not. I was going to mend
a fence, but"--

"Oh, no, mend me!" returned Sylvia.

Benny Merritt found that Mr. Dunham had spoken the truth, and that he
was summoned early on the following day to take Miss Derwent to the
Mill Farm; and when she appeared at the dock at the appointed hour, it
proved that she was escorted by Judge Trent, rather grim of visage as
he shot out sharp glances from beneath the earth-colored cap. He was
not particularly fond of sailing; he greatly approved of Jenny's
cooking; everything had been unusually comfortable and to his mind
until Sylvia's foolish move upset everything and everybody. It was with
reluctance that he accompanied Edna this morning, but her earnestness
would not be gainsaid. He was forced to listen to assurances of his
niece's gift, of the desirability of developing it, of the strength of
the motive-spirit she had evidenced in the pains taken to carry out her
desire. Then Edna unfolded to him the plans that had come to her during
a wakeful night, and bespoke his cooperation. The judge scowled at the
passing billows, and listened. Edna was tactful and diplomatic. She did
not overdo the matter. She allowed silences to fall in which her
taciturn listener might digest the food she had offered his family
pride and ambition. She talked of other matters, and was ju