r. Harkness?"

"Well, I don't just get your meaning but I will. And I guess so, Missy.
And now what do you say to a bite of breakfast--fetched hot from the
kitchen to your own sunny room?"

Robin knew she would break the old man's heart if she refused his
service so she climbed back up the stairs to the sunny window of the
deserted sitting-room and awaited the tray of hot breakfast. And as she
sat there her eyes suddenly fell upon Cynthia, sitting straight among
the cushions of the chaise longue, staring at her with faded, unblinking
eyes. Beryl had not taken the doll!

A great hurt pressed hard against Robin's throat. Beryl had _wanted_ to
make her feel badly. But why--oh, what had she done?

"You can stay there, Cynthia. _I_ won't touch you," she cried, turning
to the window, and at the same time she registered the vow in her heart
that by no littlest word or act of hers should Beryl know how her
desertion had hurt her.

A week of stormy weather, which made the roads almost impassable, helped
Robin. She threw herself into her studies with a determination almost as
upsetting to Percival Tubbs as her former indifference. And when the
studies were over she buried herself in the great divan before the
library fire with books piled about her while Harkness hovered near at
hand, watching her with an anxious eye.

Robin did not always read the open page. Sometimes, holding it before
her, she let her mind go over word by word what Dale had said to her as
they walked home from the store. It had not been much, to be sure, but
it had been enough to make her feel that her Prince had opened his heart
to her, oh, just a tiny bit. With her blessed powers of imagination and
with what Beryl had told her from time to time concerning him, she could
put everything together into a beautiful picture.

Dale was splendid and brave--_he_ had not been afraid of being poor! And
he dreamed, too, like Sir Galahad, but a dream of machinery. And he had
had a beautiful light in his face when he had said that about his
shoulders being broad enough to support his family. Oh, Robin wished she
could see him in a scarlet coat like Sir Galahad wore in the picture.

The snowstorm abating, Robin sent Williams to the village with a basket
of flowers for Mrs. Lynch and fruit for big Danny, and Williams brought
back a tenderly grateful little note from Mrs. Lynch--but not a word
from Beryl.

"Everything must be all right or she'd have told me," Robin