| CHAPTER I. | THE FLAME DIVINE |
| CHAPTER II. | “Your True Friend, Melissa M.” |
| CHAPTER III. | LIKE A SINGING BIRD |
| CHAPTER IV. | MISSY TACKLES ROMANCE |
| CHAPTER V. | IN THE MANNER OF THE DUCHESS |
| CHAPTER VI. | INFLUENCING ARTHUR |
| CHAPTER VII. | BUSINESS OF BLUSHING |
| CHAPTER VIII. | A HAPPY DOWNFALL |
| CHAPTER IX. | DOBSON SAVES THE DAY |
| CHAPTER X. | MISSY CANS THE COSMOS |
Melissa came home from Sunday-school with a feeling she had never had before. To be sure she was frequently discovering, these days, feelings she had never had before. That was the marvellous reward of having grown to be so old; she was ten, now, an advanced age—almost grown up! She could look back, across the eons which separated her from seven-years-old, and dimly re-vision, as a stranger, the little girl who cried her first day in the Primary Grade. How absurd seemed that bashful, timid, ignorant little silly! She knew nothing at all. She still thought there was a Santa Claus!—would you believe that? And, even at eight, she had lingering fancies of fairies dancing on the flower-beds by moonlight, and talking in some mysterious language with the flowers!
Now she was much wiser. She knew that fairies lived only in books and pictures; that flowers could not actually converse. Well... she almost knew. Sometimes, when she was all alone—out in the summerhouse on a drowsy afternoon, or in the glimmering twilight when that one very bright and knowing star peered in at her, solitary, on the side porch, or when, later, the moonshine stole through the window and onto her pillow, so thick and white she could almost feel it with her fingers—at such times vague fancies would get tangled up with the facts of reality, and disturb her new, assured sense of wisdom. Suddenly she'd find herself all mixed up, confused as to what actually was and wasn't.
But she never worried long over that. Life was too complex to permit much time for worry over anything; too full and compelling in every minute of the long, long hours which yet seemed not long enough to hold the new experiences and emotions which ceaselessly flooded in upon her.
The emotion she felt this Sunday was utterly new. It was not contentment nor