Virginia’s heart beat fast with excitement. Was this beloved teacher of hers really going to confide in her? Her eyes followed Miss Wallace’s to the dresser, and there, reclothed in a shining silver frame, was Mr. Taylor—Miss Wallace’s own Mr. Taylor! So it had been only a misunderstanding after all! The dream of Miss Wallace’s life was not dead, but living, and she was happy! One glance at her face was proof of that! Virginia was so happy herself that she longed to tell her so; but perhaps she had best not just now. Besides, what was Miss Wallace saying?
“I don’t know that I’ve ever told you about my cousin, Robert Taylor, Virginia. You’ve seen his picture of course—that is till recently when I sent it away to have it framed. To-night I had a cable from him, telling me that he’s actually engaged to the dearest girl I know. We’ve both been hoping for it for months—I almost as much as he—and Mary’s just decided that she can’t get along without him. I’m so delighted!”
It seemed impossible that Virginia’s heart could have undergone such a metamorphosis as it had in the last minute.
“Is—? is—he your cousin?” she asked in a queer, strained little voice. But Miss Wallace was so happy that she did not notice it.
“Why, yes, he’s really my cousin, but he seems like my brother, for his mother died when he was a baby, and my mother brought him up. So we’ve always lived together, just like brother and sister, and I never think of any difference. Why, my dear, where are you going? The bell hasn’t rung.” For Virginia was half way out of the door.
“I—must go,” she stammered. “The girls are waiting for me up-stairs.”
Four more crestfallen and unromantic girls never existed than those which looked at one another at the conclusion of Virginia’s story.
“I never felt so silly in my life!” she added, after the last rainbow-colored bubble had been burst.
“Nor I!” cried Priscilla.
“Let’s be everlastingly grateful we didn’t sign our names,” said Dorothy.