for ten minutes. She was, indeed, greatly embarrassed.

“I—I scarcely ever see him,” she stammered. “He is always in the library—reading things.”

“I love mine more than all the world ten times over,” Sara said. “That is what my pain is. He has gone away.”

She put her head quietly down on her little, huddled-up knees, and sat very still for a few minutes.

“She’s going to cry out loud,” thought Ermengarde, fearfully.

But she did not. Her short, black locks tumbled about her ears, and she sat still.

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