"If so her letter does not read as though she is disagreeably disappointed," his wife commented, glancing back over the epistle; "evidently the dear child has been most kindly received. Fancy that lady she travelled with being a friend of the Reeds! What a strange coincidence! Let me see, what is her name? Dr. Elizabeth Ridgeway. You liked her appearance, did you not, Clement?"

"Yes," Mr. Wyndham replied, "I felt quite easy in my mind about Violet when I heard her opposite neighbour was going all the way to Barford, for she had a sensible, reliable face, and I thought she seemed a kindly soul. Events have shown that I read her aright. Violet writes a very good letter for a girl of her age, I consider."

"Ah, she takes after her father in possessing the pen of a ready writer," said Mrs. Wyndham, with a smile; "and she is very sharp and observant. Miss Minter says she shows great ability for acquiring general information. I am sure she will do well at Helmsford College."

"I know what she means about Ann Reed's not being quite what she expected to find her," announced Madge; "I mean I know what she thought Ann would be like—proud, and stuck-up, and selfish."

"What made her think that?" questioned Mr. Wyndham, in amazement.

"She thought so because Ann is an only child, father, like Agnes Hosking," Ruth explained; "and Agnes Hosking is one of the most disagreeable girls at Miss Minter's school; her father is very rich, you know, and once mother in speaking of Ann Reed, called her Prosperity's child, and—"

"I remember I did," Mrs. Wyndham broke in; "but I did not mean to disparage her in any way, I am sure."

"Prosperity's child," Mr. Wyndham said thoughtfully; "yes, she is certainly that, she can know nothing, by experience, of the struggles and privations life brings to so many; but she wouldn't be much like her father if she was proud or selfish, and somehow I don't fancy Andrew Reed's daughter could be either. Dear me, what extraordinary notions children do get into their heads!" he concluded with a laugh.

"I wonder if Violet will be home-sick," said Frank, "I told her she would be, but she wouldn't believe it. You see she admits that she had a 'little weep' when she thought of Ruthie. I say, Ruthie, did you cry when you went to bed by yourself and thought of Violet?" he asked inquisitively.

"I believe she did," declared Billy, staring accusingly at his eldest sister, who appeared embarrassed. "What a couple of cry-babies you and Vi must be!"