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"I'm not joking," I said jerkily; "I am lonely. And worse than being lonely, I'm scared. I ought to have stayed just the quiet relict of Mr. Carter and gone out with Aunt Adeline and let myself be fat and respectable; but I haven't got the character. You thought I went to town to buy a monument, and I didn't; I bought enough clothes for two brides, and now I'm too scared to wear 'em, and I don't know what you'll think when you see my bankbook. Everybody is talking about me and that dinner-party Tuesday night, and Aunt Adeline says she can't live in a house of mourning so desecrated any longer; she's going back to the cottage. Aunt Bettie Pollard says that if I want to get married I ought to marry Mr. Wilson Graves because of his seven children, and then everybody would be so relieved that they are taken care of, that they would forget that Mr. Carter hasn't been dead quite five years yet. Mrs. Johnson says I ought to be declared a minor and put as a ward under you. I can't help judge Wade's sending me flowers and Tom's walking over my front steps every day. I'm not strong enough to carry him away and drown him. I am perfectly miserable and I'm——" "Be more explicit, man," he said sternly. "What do you mean by Mrs. Dallas' place? The house or the grounds?" "We-e-ll," she said, slowly revolving so as to see each hall in turn. "I'll take the one just ahead there. It hasn't any card on the door and all the others have." Mrs. Shelly nodded briskly. "And I'll come sit with you while you're getting ready," she promised, patting Judith's hand. "We can have some good talks together then, and I'll remember more stories for you, too.".