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Miss Mathewson, seeing him apparently more interested in the subject than he was apt to be in the topics she brought up to amuse him, except as he assumed interest for her sake, went on with this one, and told him all she knew about Miss Ruston's plans, ending with a description of the photographs she had shown. "But I should like to see one of herself," she added. "She has such a brilliant face.

These were Miss Charlotte Ruston's words of greeting as she shook hands with the occupants of the Macauley car, which had met her at the station on the last day of July. She looked as fresh and eager to carry out her plans as if she were not just at the end of a journey. "I suppose you'll stop for luncheon first," Martha Macauley suggested.

Walker says the men, being disheartened at this, they went down to the beach and halted about a mile from it; Water Peak Hill being distant about fifteen miles. Woods said much discontent was caused amongst the men by its being conceived that they were following a bad course; or, according to Ruston's expression, that "the steering was very bad." April 12.

"You can be as independent as you like, but you need friends. Or, if that has small weight with you, let me appeal to your generosity. I need your friendship even more than you need mine." "Unhappy Mr. Brant." She was smiling. "So few friends, so few pleasures, he needs poor Charlotte Ruston's support!"

Ruston's orders exactly as if I were being paid six dollars a week and board for doing it. And I meant it just as literally as I said it." He was prowling about the room in a worried sort of way, before she got as far as that. "I don't see, child," he exclaimed, "why you couldn't leave well enough alone! If it's that old economy bug of yours again, it's nonsense.

"I should have known that living-room was yours if I hadn't had your Aunt Lucy's famous old desk to give me a clue. O, Len, the very back of you is enchanting!" Ellen turned to laugh at Charlotte Ruston's characteristic fervour of expression. "I remember you are always admiring people's backs," she observed. "Yes, they're often so much more interesting than their faces.

"But Miss Ruston's hair is that crisp, half curly sort that stays just where you put it, and mine is so straight and fine that it gets stringy. It makes all the difference in the world." The car moved off. After a minute it turned a corner and came to a standstill before a house. Macauley sounded a penetrating horn, and after a minute the door opened and John Leaver came out.

She didn't know which of these alternatives was the more intolerable to her. And the twins! Were they, the fine lusty little cherubs she had parted from that day, smiling up with growing recognition into other faces Mrs. Ruston's and the maid Doris'? Or might there have been, since the last information relayed by Portia, a sudden illness?

Ruston and Doris were both waiting in the hall. "I must go now," she said. "Good-by. Keep them carefully for me." Her voice was steady, and though her eyes were bright, there was no trace of tears upon her cheeks. But there was a kind of glory shining in her face that was too much for Doris, who turned away and sobbed loudly. Even Mrs. Ruston's eyes were wet.