, sympathetic people, it seemed to her that Madge was
even more to be envied than she; and she wished she knew how to say so
in an acceptable manner. But Eleanor found as much difficulty as most
of us do, in expressing our best and truest thoughts, and so the
Burtwell family never knew what a heart-warming impression they had
made upon their guest.

Eleanor had lived for the past three years with a married cousin, a
daughter of the not particularly congenial or affectionate Aunt Sarah,
now deceased, who had brought her up from babyhood. The gentle,
sensitive girl, with the artistic temperament, had never been happy
with her cousin, though the latter was far from suspecting the fact.
Mrs. Hamilton Hicks was fond of Eleanor, or imagined herself to be so,
and she always gave her young cousin her due share of credit, in view
of the fact that they had "never had any words together."
Nevertheless, she had acceded very readily to the Paris plan, and had
herself taken pains to find a suitable chaperon for the young
traveller.

The result was, that on the fifteenth of September Eleanor went forth
into the great world in company with a lively and voluble Frenchwoman,
a lady whom she had seen but twice before in her life, who had
promised to establish her in a good private family in Paris. And since
Mrs. Hamilton Hicks had negotiated the arrangement, its success was a
foregone conclusion.

When Madge left the railway station after bidding Eleanor good-bye,
and stepped out into the crowded city thoroughfare, the world seemed
to her very empty and desolate, in spite of the multitude of her
fellow-creatures who jostled against her. She could think of nothing
but Eleanor, standing on the platform of the car as the train moved
out of the station, and she was desperately sorry to have lost the
last sight of her friend's tearful face, because of a curious blur
that had come over her own eyes at the moment. At the recollection,
she mechanically put her hand into her pocket in search of the
miniature which she usually carried about with her. She had left it at
home lest she should lose it in the crowded railway station. It gave
her a pang not to find it, and she made up her mind then and there
that she would never go without it again.

The moment she reached her own room she seized the picture and had a
good look at it. She had placed it in the inner gilt rim of an old
daguerreotype, which set it off very nicely. She had discarded the