“We will go on,” she said.  “The question is ignored, and silence gives consent until we have more definite instructions.”

And go on they did, all working together, praying, reading, trusting, while they waited for the white-winged vessel and the traveler that were speeding towards them.

Three days later, a black bordered envelope was handed Katherine.

“It has no more power than you give it, dearie,” observed her mother, who saw that she did not at once open it.

The girl thanked her with a smile, and instantly broke the seal.

“It is from Jennie Wild, mamma,” she said, as she turned to the signature on the last page.  Then she read aloud: 

“Dear miss Minturn:  Auntie is gone, and it was all so sudden and awful I cannot realize it even yet.  She just went to sleep last Thursday, in her chair, and never woke up.  She was so dear—­so dear, and I loved her with all my heart, and it seems to take everything out of the world for me, for her going leaves me alone, with no one to love, or have a kindred feeling for me.  I had planned to do such great things for her when I should leave school, so that she need not work every minute to support me, and now I can do nothing and have been a burden to her all these years.  It is dreadful to be a ‘stray waif,’ your identity lost, and your only friend swept out of the world without a moment’s warning.

“Well, I am young and strong—­I can work, and sometime, perhaps, I shall understand why I am here—­what special niche I am to fill; though at present nothing but a blank wall seems to loom up before me.  Of course, this means I am not going back to Hilton, for auntie’s annuity ceased when she went; the quarterly remittance came the day before, so there was enough, and a little more, to take care of her.  I am going, tomorrow, to Jerome’s, to see if I can get a place in the store.  I want to stay here because, now and then, I can see you, the Seabrooks, and some of the other girls who have been good to me.  Please write to me, dear Miss Minturn.  I thought of you first in my trouble, for you always have something so comforting to say when one is unhappy.  Do you know anything about Prof, and Mrs. Seabrook, or how Dorothy is?  “Lovingly yours, “Jennie wild.”

There was a long silence, after Katherine finished reading this epistle, during which both mother and daughter were absorbed in thought.  They were alone, for Miss Reynolds had left a few days previous and Sadie had gone to Boston to do some shopping.

“Mamma,” said Katherine, at length, breaking the silence, “there is Grandma Minturn’s legacy.”

Mrs. Minturn lifted a bewildered look to her.

“Ah!” she said, the next moment, as she caught her meaning, “I understand; you want to use it for Jennie.”

“Yes; it is too bad for her education to be stopped.  She is a conscientious student, in spite of her pranks, and I cannot endure the thought of her going into a dry-goods store as a clerk,” Katherine replied.