as on her way to the
morning-room in search of her mother, when Christine opened the
drawing-room door and beckoned to her with a very excited face.

"Do come in, Betty," she said, in a loud whisper that must have been
distinctly audible inside the room. "What a time you have been! and
there is a friend of yours waiting for you."

Bessie quickened her steps, feeling somewhat mystified by Christine's
manner, and the next moment she was face to face with Edna. Bessie
turned very pale and could hardly speak at first for surprise and
emotion; but Edna took her in her arms and kissed her.

"My dear Bessie," she said softly; and then she laughed a little
nervously, and it was not the old musical laugh at all--"are you very
surprised to see me? Oh, it was a bright idea of mine. I have been
visiting those same friends (I had returned from them that day, you
know, when we were snowed up together). Well, when I saw Sheen Valley,
all of a sudden the thought popped into my head that I would stop at
Cliffe, and take a later train; so I telegraphed to mamma, who is in
London, and now I have a whole hour to spend with you. Is not that
nice?"

"Very nice indeed. I am so glad to see you, Edna; but you are looking
delicate; you have lost your color."

"What nonsense!" with a touch of her old impatience. "You are as bad as
mamma; she is always finding fault with me. People who live in glass
houses should not throw stones at their neighbors. You do not look like
yourself either, Bessie."

"Oh, that is different," and Bessie's lips trembled a little; "I have
gone through so much since we parted. I try to take it properly, and
every one helps me, but I think I miss my Hatty more every day."

"You want a change," returned Edna kindly, for she was much touched by
the alteration in her friend's looks.

Bessie had lost her pretty fresh color, and looked pale and subdued in
her black dress; her gray eyes had a sad look in them, even her voice
had lost its old cheery tones, and her very movements were quieter; the
bright elasticity that had been her charm was missing now, and yet Edna
thought she had never looked so sweet.

"My poor little Daisy," she continued, "you have a crushed look. You
want country air to revive you. Will you come to us? Mamma will be
delighted; you are such a favorite of hers; and as for myself, I want
you more than I can say."

"Not yet; I could not leave mother yet," returned Bessie; but a faint
color stole i