The postscript had evidently been written much later. The writing was easily legible. “Anne, another of those sharp heart attacks warns me that I would better place in your care the money that we have on hand. I sent Dorcas to the bank this afternoon to draw it out and I have locked it in my desk; the key I am enclosing. There will be sufficient to care for you and sister Dahlia for at least a year; after that I am sure that my brave Anne will find a way.”
* * * * * * * *
Phyllis quietly entered the room a few moments later and saw Nan seated at her desk, her head on her arms.
“Oh, Phyllis,” she sobbed, as her friend sat beside her and tried to comfort her, “how Aunt Ursula must have suffered. If only I had been here. Perhaps if we had talked it over together, it might have been a help to her.”
Nan then gave the letter to Phyllis to read, and after a thoughtful moment, added, “I must be worthy of the trust that splendid woman has placed in me. How glad I am that I will be able to teach. I shall not tell Aunt Dahlia of the financial loss until it is necessary. She is very frail and it might be more than she could stand. Come dear, let us go to her. I do not want to leave her alone.”
A week later Nan returned to Pine Crest Seminary and Miss Dahlia was with her. Mrs. Dorsey had at once visited the Barrington home and had insisted that her old friend share her pleasant apartment at the school until Nan had successfully passed the final examinations and had received her diploma.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE VALEDICTORIAN.
A few days before the closing exercises at Pine Crest Seminary, Phyllis entered their room and exclaimed jubilantly to the girl who was seated at the writing desk. “Nan Barrington, you never can guess who passed with the highest marks and is to be chosen class valedictorian.”
The other girl looked up brightly. “It was Phyllis Dorchester, I do believe,” she declared.
“No, indeed. That guess is far afield. The successful maiden is Anne Barrington. There, now, what do you think of that? Mrs. Dorsey just told me and I simply couldn’t walk upstairs demurely, I was so eager to tell you. How proud I will be at the closing exercises to see my room-mate standing before a crowded assembly room reading her graduating essay on ‘Comrading With Nature.’ It’s poetry in prose, Nan, and I am glad that you are to read it.”