Left alone, Lanse and Celia looked at each other.
"Well, old girl--" began Lansing, gently.
"O Lanse!" breathed Celia.
He patted her shoulder. "Bear up, dear. It's tough to give up college for a year--"
"Oh, that's not it!" cried the girl, and buried her face in a sofa pillow.
"No, that's not it," he answered, under his breath. He shook his shoulders and walked away to the fire, stood staring down into it for a minute with sober eyes, then drew a long breath and came back to his sister.
"It's a relief that there's something we can do to help her get well," he said, slowly. "And she will get well, Celia--she will--she must!"
CHAPTER II
"Where's the shawl-strap?"