"He has promised to eat all that!" she cried out, pointing with the teapot in the direction of Garth's plate; "and he says he feels better already. I have made the tea so strong, just as he likes it. Langley let me go to the caddy myself!"
Garth rose with a droll expression and shook hands with Queenie.
"Emmie has played truant, I am afraid. She has got it into her head that I am starving myself to death as the best way of escaping my difficulties. I have had to eat and drink before her to dissipate the unpleasant idea."
"Oh, Emmie! how could you think of running away like this?" exclaimed her sister, fondly pressing the child's fair head between her hands; but she said very little to either of them after that. In the months to come that little scene often recurred to her, and the strange, embarrassed look on Garth's face as she entered.
More than a week had elapsed since the two conspirators had met in the little parlor at Brierwood Cottage. Queenie was just beginning to feel that the suspense was becoming terrible, when one night, as she was sitting alone after Emmie had gone to bed, she heard Mr. Logan's voice in the entry, and in another moment he came in shaking the raindrops off him.
"Well," he said, beaming on her through his spectacles, "I have not kept you too long waiting, have I? Of course you have been very anxious, but a delicate matter like this required plenty of time and management."
"Oh, yes, I know," she replied hastily; "but, all the same, my suspense has been dreadful. Tell me quickly, Mr. Logan. Has he taken it?"
"He has."
"Oh, thank heaven!" she exclaimed, and turned away lest the relief and joy should be too legibly written on her face.
"It has been a difficult job," he went on, sitting down and spreading his white, finely-shaped hands over the blaze. "At one time I feared whether I could carry it through. He was so hard to manage; but I timed it well, and spoke before Miss Clayton. I knew I could count on her common-sense to help me."