The other girls belonging to the Adventure Club were filled with envy, when, on the following morning, Virginia told them that she was not to attend the classes, but instead was to be driven in the teacher’s sleigh (which was of Russian design with a fur robe hanging over the high-back seat) to the old house which they had visited on the day previous.

But they were agreed that their president was the most fitting member to accompany so important a personage as the principal of Vine Haven, and they all flocked into her room, to help her dress for the occasion. Sally, as a token of her undying devotion, brought in her beautiful white fur boa and muff and begged Virginia to wear them. “They’ll keep you so warm and will remind you of me. Mrs. Martin won’t mind your borrowing them, I am sure.”

“Thank you, ever so much, dear. They are just lovely. I have never had furs. You see, we don’t need them in Arizona, for, though it is very cold early in the morning and in the late afternoon, even in February it is pleasant and warm during the middle of the day.”

When at last Virg had been well bundled, with the aid of loving hands, she impulsively gave them all a French kiss, as Madame La Fleur had taught them to do, which was a mere touch of the lips on first one cheek and then on the other. At the door she turned to laughingly call. “One might think that I was starting for Arizona, instead of merely to the village of Vine Haven.”

Then, when a chorus of merry good-byes had followed her as she tripped down the broad front stairs she found herself wondering if she wished she were starting for her beloved desert home. “Only four months more,” she assured herself when she felt the clutch of homesickness that the merest thought of them all so far away, brought to her heart.

Micky was driving the white team, and Virginia noticed that at times he shivered. His overcoat, it was very evident, had been cut down from an old one of his father’s and it was threadbare in places, while in others it was badly in need of repair. Almost unconsciously Virginia made a mental note of this.

Mrs. Martin, sitting by the side of the tall, bright-eyed maiden, smiled at her lovingly. “Virginia,” she said, “I feel like a school girl playing truant, don’t you?”

“I feel eager, as though something very interesting was about to happen.” Then, with renewed interest, Virg continued: “Oh, Mrs. Martin, do tell me more about those unfortunate daughters of the eccentric old sea captain.”

“You are right. They were, indeed, unfortunate. Eleanora’s husband, whose name was Mr. Craven, I believe, disappeared a year after the birth of their child, and the disappointed young mother took back her father’s name. Since then she has supported them both, doing settlement work in Boston.

“Dorinda was heard from until her son was eight. That was 10 years ago. After that the letters sent to her by Eleanora were returned, unopened, and on them was often written in a strange foreign hand, ‘Address unknown.’”

“And so what became of the sister to whom she was so devoted and to that sister’s son, the mother of your friend Eleanor never knew?”

When Micky turned in at the drive between the high hedge on the side farthest from town the door of the old house was thrown open and a truly beautiful young girl appeared. Although her skin was olive in hue, a ruddy color glowed beneath it, and her eyes were a soft, dreamy brown, while long curls, held together at her neck with a bright-colored ribbon bow, hung to her waist.

Her expression brightened when she saw who their early morning visitors were and she darted within, probably to tell her mother who was arriving, but she was back in the open door by the time that Mrs. Martin and Virginia were ascending the well-shoveled front porch.

“And so you are my Eleanora’s little daughter,” the older woman said, graciously holding out her gloved hand to the girl. “I was sorry not to see you when you and your mother were here two summers ago. The last time I saw you, I think, was when you were seven.”

“Oh, I just know that you are Mrs. Martin,” the girl said eagerly, while Virginia hastened to apologize. “Pardon me for not having introduced you, Mrs. Martin. You did not tell me, that is, I really supposed that you were well acquainted.”

The older woman smiled back at the tall girl who was following her. “I should be,” she said. Then, hearing her name spoken, she hastened into the large, homey living room, where the mother of Eleanor awaited them. “It was so good of you to come.” There were sudden tears in the eyes of the little woman, who was not yet strong. “It always makes me think of the old days, when I return here,” Mrs. Burgess continued, when they were seated about the wide, cheerful hearth. “I’ve been wondering so much about Dorinda.” Then, hopefully: “Mrs. Martin, you haven’t heard, have you? I know how much Dorinda cared for you, and I thought perhaps—”

But the principal of Vine Haven was shaking her head. “No, Eleanora, I never heard. That is, not more recently than you have. My last letter was when the little boy was eight.”

“They were on some island near Australia then,” Mrs. Burgess said, “but though I have written to the American consul, I have never received information that would lead to a knowledge of Dorinda’s whereabouts. I now believe that she is dead. I wish we might find her poor boy, if he is still living.”

“Don’t give up hope, Eleanora,” Mrs. Martin said. “I feel sure that you will find him some day. Now, there is another matter of which I wish to speak.”

Mrs. Burgess looked up with interest when the principal of Vine Haven said that she had made that early morning visit with some definite object in mind.

The older woman placed a hand, from which the glove had been removed, upon the slim white one that was lying on the arm of her chair.

“Eleanora,” Mrs. Martin’s voice was tenderly sincere, “you have had a great deal of trouble and misfortune and I do wish you would permit me to help you.”

According to a pre-arranged plan, Virginia had suggested that Eleanor show her about the old house, and so the two older women were alone.

“Help me?” Mrs. Burgess repeated. “Really, I don’t need help, though I truly appreciate your thought of me.”

It was very hard for Mrs. Martin to suggest that the proud younger woman accept what she believed would be charity. In fact, she just couldn’t do it. Then an inspiration came to aid her. Only the day before the teacher of the very youngest girls had asked for a leave of absence for two months, as she was needed in her home near Boston. Not waiting to think out a plan, Mrs. Martin said hurriedly:

“Eleanora, I began in the wrong way. I meant, that I have a request to make which will greatly aid me, if you will grant it.”

There was just a bit of a suspicious expression in the eyes that were lifted inquiringly.

“Why, Mrs. Martin, how could I aid you?” the younger woman asked.

“In this way.” The principal’s mind was now fully made up. “Miss Rose, my girl teacher, has asked for a leave of absence, and I would like your Eleanor to assist me in her place if you are willing.”

Again there were tears in the listener’s eyes and she held the hand of her long-ago teacher and friend in a closer clasp. “Mrs. Martin,” she said, “I understand. You are offering my dear little girl an opportunity to receive an education where her mother spent many happy hours, and that free of tuition, but——”

“Don’t say ‘but’ Eleanora. Don’t you see that your daughter would be earning her tuition if she spent a few hours each day with the primary girls?”

The younger woman could not trust herself to speak, but her eyes were lifted gratefully. In her heart there was a sob. “Oh, how lonely she would be in Boston’s tenement district without her girl’s bright face awaiting her after each long hard day spent helping the miserable and the poor.”

“But it’s my Eleanor’s chance,” another thought reminded her. “I had mine, and I will not deprive her.”

A tap upon the door interrupted. Then a merry voice called through a crack: “Have you two finished telling your secrets? The big house is so damp and cold, we’re most frozen.”

Mrs. Martin looked inquiringly at the younger woman, who had not voiced her decision. “Yes, come in, darling, and get warm by the fire. I have some wonderful news for you.”

“Mother-mine, what?” The girl’s face was radiant. “Granddad’s hidden fortune hasn’t been found, has it?”

Mrs. Burgess shook her head. “And never will be,” was her response. “This is something real. Mrs. Martin is offering you a term’s tuition at the Vine Haven Boarding School in exchange for a few hours a day of your time to be spent teaching the very little girls in the primary class.”

Mrs. Martin noted Virginia’s quick glance of surprise, but the others did not. Then the girl from the West correctly figured out just what had happened, and turned to see how Eleanor would receive the news. Not as she had expected, for, dropping on the stool at her mother’s feet, she clasped her hand, as she said, “Though in one way I’d like to go to Vine Haven better than anything I could do, I just couldn’t leave you. Why, Mother-Mine, who would live with you in our tiny apartment? Who would have ready for you the things you ought to eat when you come home each night so tired after helping poor women who do not know how to help themselves and their babies. I just couldn’t do it, Mother-Mine. I couldn’t be happy knowing that you needed me.” Then rising, the girl impulsively held out both hands to Mrs. Martin. “Thank you though. Thank you more than words can tell. I’ve just longed to go to Vine Haven Seminary and, perhaps, some time I may be able to, but I can’t leave mother now, for, you see, she isn’t well, and I want her to need me.”

They had all risen and the visitors were about to leave, when sleigh bells were heard, and Eleanor skipped once more to the front door to see who the new arrival might be.

“Why, it’s Doctor Warren! Has he come for us so soon, Mother, do you suppose? We weren’t expecting to return for another fortnight, were we?” Before Mrs. Burgess could reply, the good man bustled in. “Well, well,” he said when he saw visitors, “I’m glad to find that you are not lonely. Don’t hurry away,” he held out a detaining hand when introductions had been made, “Mrs. Martin, since you are so old a friend of my patient, I may need your aid in persuading her to do something upon which my heart is set. She’s stubborn, Mrs. Burgess is, as perhaps you know, but she has always said that if the time ever came when she could help my wife, she’d be glad to do it.”

Here Mrs. Burgess interrupted. “Of course I shall keep that promise. What do you want me to do?”

The good man fairly beamed. “That wife of mine wishes to spend a few months abroad, Italy and the like, and she insists that you are the companion she wants with her, and she simply won’t take no for an answer. It will do more to restore your health than anything else can and now all that remains is to decide what our little Eleanor is to do in the meantime. I have thought—”

“Oh, Doctor Warren,” the girl leaped forward and caught the hands of their old friend. “I’m disposed of for I am to be a sort of a teaching pupil for the rest of the term at the Vine Haven Seminary.”

“Fine! In the words of Billy Shakespeare, ‘All’s well that ends well.’”

And so the matter was evidently decided although Mrs. Burgess had said not one word.