. Wayland she had a useful mentor. This
lady in her younger days had been familiar with the best phases of
metropolitan society, and she counteracted in Madge all tendencies
toward provincialism. Thus it gradually became recognized that the
"shy, sickly little girl," as she had been characterized at first, was
growing into a very attractive young woman. Indeed, after an absence
of only a year her own sister would scarcely have recognized her.

CHAPTER V

ACHIEVEMENT

Mrs. Muir of course heard often from her sister, and was satisfied
with the general assurance that she was better and steadily improving.
Madge, however, was rather indefinite in her information. As time
passed, the idea of giving her friends in the East a surprise took
possession of her fancy. She instinctively felt that she needed every
incentive to pursue the course she had resolved upon, since she often
suffered from fits of depression hard to combat. The hope of appearing
like a new being to her relatives was another innocent motive for her
long-prolonged effort. Circumstances had never developed epistolary
tastes in the sisters, and they were content with brief missives
containing general assurances that all was well. Mrs. Muir was one of
those ladies who become engrossed with the actual and the present. Had
Madge been in her old room she would have been looked after with daily
solicitude; being absent, she was loved none the less, but was simply
crowded from thought and memory by swarms of little cares. She was
doing well, and her sister was satisfied. "'It's a wonderful climate,'
Madge writes," she would say, "so even and dry. Madge doesn't take
cold as she did here, and can go out nearly every day. Perhaps we
ought to become reconciled to the fact that she will have to live
there always, since here, with our sudden changes, she could scarcely
live at all."

With the kindliest intentions Graydon had sought to initiate a
vigorous correspondence. He had learned with immense relief of Madge's
improvement through change of residence, and he felt that a series of
jolly letters might bring aid and hopefulness. Her responses were not
very encouraging, however, and business cares, with the novelty
of foreign life, gradually absorbed his thoughts and time until
correspondence languished and died.

"It's the old story," he thought, with a shade of irritation. "Letters
cost effort, and she is not equal to effort, or thinks she is not."

If he c