“I don’t see why you didn’t come to the picnic.”

“Oh, Esther,” Jane’s plain little face was radiant, “you missed it!  It was the nicest picnic yet.  I won one race and Bubble won another, and Ann won’t speak to either of us.  She says she hates her aunt because she’d have won a race too if she hadn’t had so much starch in her petticoats.  But Mrs. Sykes says she wouldn’t be a mite surprised if Ann has a bad heart—­not a wicked heart, just a bad one, the kind that makes you drop down dead.  Some of Ann’s folks died of bad hearts, Mrs. Sykes says.  But the doctor says it’s all nonsense.  He agreed with Ann that it wasn’t anything but petticoats—­Oh, say! how pretty the table looks.  Did mother say you could use the best china?”

“Seeing that it’s Esther’s china on her own mother’s side, I guess she can use it if she likes,” said Aunt Amy, mildly belligerent.  “I thought you might want to set the table before we got home, Esther, and I was so afraid you might forget and use the sprigged tea set.  But the doctor said you’d be sure not to.”

“That’s one of her queer notions, I suppose?” said Miss Annabel in a stage whisper plainly heard by every one.  “How odd!  Can you come upstairs with me, Esther?  I want to speak to you most particularly and I haven’t seen you for ages.

“Not that I haven’t tried,” she continued in her jerky way as they went up the stairs together; “but you seem to be always with your mother.  Going to lose her soon.  Natural enough.  I said to Mrs. Miller, ’There’s real devotion.’  Possible to overdo it though.  Marriage is terribly trying.  For relatives.  But long engagements are worse.  How was it you didn’t get to the picnic?”

Esther murmured that she hadn’t quite felt like going to the picnic.

“Well, you didn’t miss much.  Even Angus wasn’t as cheerful as usual.  Inclined to be moody.  And that brings me to what I wanted to tell you.  Remember that last time you had lunch with us?”

“Yes.”

“Remember me saying that I never ask questions, but that I always find out?  Well—­I have.”

“Have what?” asked Esther, who had not been following.

“Found out.  Found out what is the matter with my brother.  Exactly what I thought.  He is the victim of an unhappy attachment.  Unreciprocated!”

“But—­”

“You remember you laughed at me, Esther.  Suggested liver.  And when I mentioned your mother you almost convinced me that I was wrong.  Although I am never wrong.  It is your mother, Esther.  My poor brother, brokenhearted, quite—­utterly!”

This was so amazing that Esther waited for more.

“I suppose he felt certain of her until Dr. Callandar stepped in.  Could hardly believe it.  When I told him of your mother’s reputed engagement he was not in the least disturbed.  Said ‘Pshaw!’ Couldn’t imagine such a possibility.  I said, ‘I assure you it is the truth, Angus,’ and he merely remarked, ‘Well, what if it is?’ in a most matter of fact way.  Quite calm!”