NOT A MIRACLE Madge was simply fatigued from her long journey, and not oppressed with want of sleep, for in passing through uninteresting portions of the country she had given herself up to repose.

The sense of weariness passed with the hours of night, and she was among the earliest stirring in the morning.

Long before breakfast was ready she had her trunks partially unpacked, her mind meantime busy with plans for immediate action.

At last her healthful appetite so asserted itself that she went down to the dining-room.

Mr.and Mrs.Muir had not yet appeared, and she strolled into the parlor, opened her piano, and played a few runs.