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"Tell ole Dido ob de debble-stick.",

"Better shut the windows there, Miss Pat," he said. "I'll close the doors and then we'll hustle. It's going to be a stunner when it comes.",

Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect.,

"I'd heard her say the Saturday that Miss Jinny came to see us that she never made sketches beforehand," said Judith, earnestly. "And she told Patricia the very day Elinor fainted that she hadn't begun her study. So I pretended to myself that we were all in a story, and I thought and thought what I should make of it if I were reading about it all instead of living in it. Then I saw that the thing to do was to find out if Doris Leighton had the little color sketch that she used for her study, and compare it with Elinor's."

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"Well, sir." Battersea scratched his shock head. "She knows things as ain't good for 'er. 'Bout that devil-stick es you talks of.",

Patricia cuddled down in the pillows again, with a chuckle.,

"It seems too good—after all those years at the boarding schools, and the scrimmage we had when the mortgage was foreclosed—to feel secure at last," said Elinor gratefully. "Everything seems to be heaping up to make us happy.",

"Molly dear," she said with her words literally falling over themselves, "Tom says you would give us some of your dinner left-overs to take for lunch in the car, for we are going to take a run down to Hedgeland to see some awfully fine cattle he has heard will be in the market there. I don't want to ask mother, in case she won't let me go; and his mother, if he asked her, will begin to talk about us. Tom said I was to come to you, and you would understand and arrange it all quickly. He sent his love and all sorts of other messages. Isn't he fond of a joke?" And we kissed and laughed and packed a basket, and kissed and laughed again for good-bye. I felt amused and happy for a few minutes—and also deserted. It's a very good thing for a woman's conceit to find out how many of her lovers are just make-believes. I may have needed Tom's deflection.