Winner Stories

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streets, and asked questions about the various buildings, Mrs.
FaneSmith was rejoicing that so fair a brand, as she mentally
expressed it, had been plucked from the burning, and resolving
that she would adopt her as a second daughter, and, if possible,
induce her to take their name and drop the notorious Raeburn.
The relief was great, for on the way to the station, Mrs. Fane
Smith had been revolving the unpleasant thought in her mind that
really there was no knowing, Erica might be 'anything' since her
mother was a 'nobody.'
At last they drew up before a large house in the most fashionable
of the Greyshot squares, the windows and balconies of which were
gay with flowers.
We shall find Rose at home, I expect, said Mrs. FaneSmith,
leading Erica across a marblepaved hall, and even as she spoke a
merry voice came from the staircase, and down ran a fairhaired
girl, with a charmingly eager and naive manner.
Erica had guessed what she must be from the quaint and kindly meant
letter which she had sent her years before, and though five years
in society had somewhat artificialized Rose, she still retained
much of her childishness and impetuous honesty. She slipped her
arm into her cousin's, and took her off to her room at once.
I am so glad you have come! she exclaimed. I have been longing
to see you for years and years. Mamma has been talking so much
about your cleverness and my stupidity that just at the last I felt
quite in a fright lest you should be too dreadfully 'blue.' I
looked out of the drawing room window for you, and if you had been
very forbidding I should have received you in state in the drawing
room, but you were so charmingly pretty that I was obliged to rush
down headlong to meet you.
Erica laughed and blushed, not being used to such broad
compliments. In the meantime, they had traversed several flights
of stairs, and Rose, opening a door, showed her into a spacious
bedroom, most luxuriously fitted up.
This great big room for me! exclaimed Erica.
It isn't at all ghostly, said Rose, reassuringly. Will you be
afraid if you have a night light?
Erica laughed at the idea of being afraid; she was merely amused to
think of herself established in such a palatial bedroom, such a
contrast to the little booklined room at home. There was a dainty
little book case here, however, with some beautifully bound books,
and in another minute she was delightedly scanning their titles,
and, with a joyous exclamation, had caught up Browning's
Christmaseve and Easterday, when a sound of dismay from her
cousin made her laughingly put it down again.
Oh, dear me! said Rose, in a despairing voice, I am afraid,

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