Poor Gwen! Max was the only playmate with whom she had ever been gentle. She had treated him far better than she had ever treated the girls at Avondale, or the new acquaintances at Cliffmore, and now he was going to run away, and she was not to ever mention it!
She reached home very tired, and also very unhappy.
At lunch she refused to eat, but that was not unusual. She often did that to attract the attention of the other boarders.
As usual Mrs. Harcourt commenced to fuss, and to question her.
"What is it, dear?" she asked.
"Is there nothing that looks tempting?"
Then glancing at those who sat opposite, she said: "Gwen's appetite is so very dainty and capricious, she rarely cares for what is served here."
The guests were a bit tired of that speech, as they had heard it at every meal during the Summer.
"You're too tired to eat, darling," Mrs. Harcourt said. "Did you play too hard with Max this morning?"
At the mention of Max, Gwen burst into tears, and ran from the table, dropping her napkin on the floor, and walking upon it in her flight.