She was aroused by some one calling her name—­some one whose voice sounded strangely familiar.  Cynthia was perhaps the only person in the school that day who did not know that Miss Janet Duncan had entered it.  Miss Sadler certainly knew it, and asked Miss Duncan very particularly about her father and mother and even her brother.  Miss Sadler knew, even before Janet’s unexpected arrival, that Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had come to Boston after Christmas, and had taken a large house in the Back Bay in order to be near their son at Harvard.  Mrs. Duncan was, in fact, a Bostonian, and more at home there than at any other place.

Miss Sadler observed with a great deal of astonishment the warm embrace that Janet bestowed on Cynthia.  The occurrence started in Miss Sadler a train of thought, as a result of which she left the drawing-room where these reunions were held, and went into her own private study to write a note.  This she addressed to Mrs. Alexander Duncan, at a certain number on Beacon Street, and sent it out to be posted immediately.  In the meantime, Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia, not having for an instant ceased to talk to her.  Of what use to write a romance, when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life!  Here was the country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to become the princess, and in four months!  Janet would not have thought it possible for any one to change so much in such a time.  Cynthia listened, and wondered what language Miss Duncan would use if she knew how great and how complete that change had been.  Romances, Cynthia thought sadly, were one thing to theorize about and quite another thing to endure—­and smiled at the thought.  But Miss Duncan had no use for a heroine without a heartache.

It is not improbable that Miss Janet Duncan may appear with Miss Sally Broke in another volume.  The style of her conversation is known, and there is no room to reproduce it here.  She, too, had a heart, but she was a young woman given to infatuations, as Cynthia rightly guessed.  Cynthia must spend many afternoons at her house—­lunch with her, drive with her.  For one omission Cynthia was thankful:  she did not mention Bob Worthington’s name.  There was the romance under Miss Duncan’s nose, and she did not see it.  It is frequently so with romancers.

Cynthia’s impassiveness, her complete poise, had fascinated Miss Duncan with the others.  Had there been nothing beneath that exterior, Janet would never have guessed it, and she would have been quite as happy.  Cynthia saw very clearly that Mr. Worthington or no other man or woman could force Bob to marry Janet.

The next morning, in such intervals as her studies permitted, Janet continued her attentions to Cynthia.  That same morning she had brought a note from her father to Miss Sadler, of the contents of which Janet knew nothing.  Miss Sadler retired into her study to read it, and two newspaper clippings fell out of it under the paper-cutter.  This was the note:—­