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It was not surprising, therefore, at the present period of her career, when the advent of spring approached, that Adele enjoyed the prospect exceedingly. Incidentally she had heard of several who were going abroad that season, among them the Doctor and Paul. “Oh, how I wish I were going! The very thought is exhilarating; what would the realization be! If——”

She went to the window and looked upwards. “What a lovely day!—I think I will take a stroll in the park,” and she picked up a little book which the Doctor had loaned her. “I’ll take this with me and read it; it’s something about Oriental theophanies, whatever that may be. I’ll just read it and imagine I’m out in the Orient. If one cannot go, the next best thing is to imagine one is there,—with a book.”

She was dressing to go out when her thoughts took another flight. “People talk about waiting for things to turn up, they always say circumstances don’t suit just now, and then collapse. Of course they collapse,—I should if always waiting—I am sure I should. I couldn’t stand it. Why not hurry up the circumstances? Mother often makes the circumstances, and then people fall in; I’ve seen her do it fifty times. Oh, how I wish I could go abroad!”—then taking her book she set out for a stroll.