textfiles/etext/FICTION/rinehart-bab-403.txt

BAB: A SUB-DEB, by MARY ROBERTS RINEHART.

Digitized by Cardinalis Etext Press, C.E.K.
Posted to Wiretap in July 1993, as subdeb.txt.

Bold and italics are depicted _thusly_. This book
was written by a 16 year old girl, and the spelling
is as it appears in the original paper edition 
(please do not correct it.)

This text is in the PUBLIC DOMAIN.

                           BAB: A SUB-DEB

                       MARY ROBERTS RINEHART

AUTHOR OF "K," "THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE," "KINGS, QUEENS AND
PAWNS," ETC.

                                ----

                              NEW YORK

                      GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

                         COPYRIGHT, 1917,

                   BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

     COPYRIGHT, 1916 AND 1917 BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

              PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

                                 CONTENTS

CHAPTER

   I     THE SUB-DEB

  II     THEME: THE CELEBRITY

 III     HER DIARY

  IV     BAB'S BURGLAR

   V     THE G.A.C.

                                 CHAPTER I

THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE CLASS
BY BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917.

_DEFINITION OF A THEME:_

     A theme is a piece of writing, either true or made up by
the author, and consisting of Introduction, Body and Conclusion.
It should contain Unity, Coherence, Emphasis, Perspecuity,
Vivacity, and Presision. It may be ornamented with dialogue,
discription and choice quotations.

_SUBJECT OF THEME:_

     An interesting Incident of My Christmas Holadays.

_Introduction:_

     "A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest."--DRYDEN.

I HAVE decided to relate with Presision what occurred during my
recent Christmas holaday. Although I was away from this school
only four days, returning unexpectedly the day after Christmas,
a number of Incidents occurred which I believe I should narate.

     It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least,
should know of the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the
result of Circumstances over which I had no controll.

     For I make this apeal, and with good reason. Is it any
fault of mine that my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am?
Naturaly, no.

     Is it fair also, I ask, that in the best society, a girl is
a Sub-Deb the year before she comes out, and although mature in
mind, and even maturer in many ways than her older sister, the
latter is treated as a young lady, enjoying many privileges,
while the former is treated as a mere child, in spite, as I have
observed, of only 20 months difference? I wish to place myself
on record that it is _not_ fair.

     I shall go back, for a short time, to the way things were
at home when I was small. I was very strictly raised. With the
exception of Tommy Gray, who lives next door and only is about
my age, I was never permitted to know any of the Other Sex.

     Looking back, I am sure that the present way society is
organized is really to blame for everything. I am being frank,
and that is the way I feel. I was too strictly raised. I always
had a Governess taging along. Until I came here to school I had
never walked to the corner of the next street unattended. If it
wasn't Mademoiselle it was mother's maid, and if it wasn't
either of them, it was mother herself, telling me to hold my
toes out and my shoulder blades in. As I have said, I never knew
any of the Other Sex, except the miserable little beasts at
dancing school. I used to make faces at them when Mademoiselle
was putting on my slippers and pulling out my hair bow. They
were totaly uninteresting, and I used to put pins in my sash, so
that they would get scratched.

     Their pumps mostly squeaked, and nobody noticed it,
although I have known my parents to dismiss a Butler who creaked
at the table.

     When I was sent away to school, I expected to learn
something of life. But I was disapointed. I do not desire to
criticize this Institution of Learning. It is an excellent one,
as is shown by the fact that the best Families send their
daughters here. But to learn life one must know something of
both sides of it, Male and Female. It was, therefore, a matter
of deep regret to me to find that, with the exception of the
Dancing Master, who has three children, and the Gardner, there
were no members of the sterner sex to be seen.

     The Athletic Coach was a girl! As she has left now to be
married, I venture to say that she was not what Lord
Chesterfield so uphoniously termed "_Suaviter in modo, fortater
in re_."

     When we go out to walk we are taken to the country, and the
three matinees a year we see in the city are mostly Shakspeare,
aranged for the young. We are allowed only certain magazines,
the Atlantic Monthly and one or two others, and Barbara
Armstrong was penalized for having a framed photograph of her
brother in running clothes.

     At the school dances we are compeled to dance with each
other, and the result is that when at home at Holaday parties I
always try to lead, which annoys the boys I dance with.

     Notwithstanding all this it is an excellent school. We
learn a great deal, and our dear Principle is a most charming
and erudite person. But we see very little of Life. And if
school is a preparation for Life, where are we?

     Being here alone since the day after Christmas, I have had
time to think everything out. I am naturally a thinking person.
And now I am no longer indignant. I realize that I was wrong,
and that I am only paying the penalty that I deserve although I
consider it most unfair to be given French translation to do. I
do not object to going to bed at nine o'clock, although ten is
the hour in the Upper House, because I have time then to look
back over things, and to reflect, to think.

     "_There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes
it so_."

                                          SHAKSPEARE.

_BODY OF THEME:_

     I now approach the narative of what happened during the
first four days of my Christmas Holiday.

     For a period before the fifteenth of December, I was rather
worried. All the girls in the school were getting new clothes
for Christmas parties, and their Families were sending on
invitations in great numbers, to various festivaties that were
to occur when they went home.

     Nothing, however, had come for me, and I was worried. But
on the 16th mother's visiting Secretary sent on four that I was
to accept, with tiped acceptances for me to copy and send. She
also sent me the good news that I was to have two party dresses,
and I was to send on my measurements for them.

     One of the parties was a dinner and theater party, to be
given by Carter Brooks on New Year's Day. Carter Brooks is the
well-known Yale Center, although now no longer such but selling
advertizing, etcetera.

     It is tradgic to think that, after having so long
anticapated that party, I am now here in sackcloth and ashes,
which is a figure of speech for the Peter Thompson uniform of
the school, with plain white for evenings and no jewellry.

     It was with anticapatory joy, therefore, that I sent the
acceptances and the desired measurements, and sat down to
cheerfully while away the time in studies and the various duties
of school life, until the Holadays.

     However, I was not long to rest in piece, for in a few days
I received a letter from Carter Brooks, as follows:

     _Dear Barbara_: It was sweet of you to write me so
promptly, although I confess to being rather astonished as well
as delighted at being called "Dearest." The signature too was
charming, "Ever thine." But, dear child, won't you write at once
and tell me why the waist, bust and hip measurements? And the
request to have them really low in the neck?

                                          Ever thine,

                                               CARTER.

     It will be perceived that I had sent him the letter to
mother, by mistake.

     I was very unhappy about it. It was not an auspisious way
to begin the Holadays, especially the low neck. Also I disliked
very much having told him my waist measure which is large owing
to Basket Ball.

     As I have stated before, I have known very few of the Other
Sex, but some of the girls had had more experience, and in the
days before we went home, we talked a great deal about things.
Especially Love. I felt that it was rather over-done,
particularly in fiction. Also I felt and observed at divers
times that I would never marry. It was my intention to go upon
the stage, although modafied since by what I am about to relate.

     The other girls say that I look like Julia Marlowe.

     Some of the girls had boys who wrote to them, and one of
them--I refrain from giving her name had--a Code. You read every
third word. He called her "Couzin" and he would write like this:

     Dear Couzin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go
home. See notice enclosed you football game.

And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to
see you."

(In giving this Code I am betraying no secrets, as they have
quarreled and everything is now over between them.)

     As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a
Career, I was a man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose.
But after all, what is life but a pose?

     "Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but
football and tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their
playthings. And when they do grow up and get a little
intellagence they use it in making money."

     There has been a story in the school--I got it from one of
the little girls--that I was disapointed in love in early youth,
the object of my atachment having been the Tener in our Church
choir at home. I daresay I should have denied the soft
impeachment, but I did not. It was, although not appearing so at
the time, my first downward step on the path that leads to
destruction.

     "The way of the Transgresser is hard"--Bible.

     I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear
home for Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on
I will term "Sis," met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly
dressed, and she said:

     "Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss.

     She is, as I have stated, but 2O months older than I, and
depends altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning
she is plain, although having a good skin. She was trimmed up
with a bouquet of violets as large as a dishpan, and she covered
them with her hands when I kissed her.

     She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new
Outfit. And I was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you
have to hang your entire Wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep,
and put it over you on cold nights, with the steam heat shut off
at ten o'clock, it does not make it look any better.

     My father has always been my favorite member of the family,
and he was very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact,
also, and later on he slipped ten dollars in my purse in the
motor. I needed it very much, as after I had paid the porter and
bought luncheon, I had only three dollars left and an I. O. U.
from one of the girls for seventy-five cents, which this may
remind her, if it is read in class, she has forgoten.

     "Good heavens, Barbara," Sis said, while I hugged father,
"you certainly need to be pressed."

     "I daresay I'll be the better for a hot iron," I retorted,
"but at least I shan't need it on my hair." My hair is curly
while hers is straight.

     "Boarding school wit!" she said, and stocked to the motor.

     Mother was in the car and glad to see me, but as usual she
managed to restrain her enthusiasm. She put her hands over some
Orkids she was wearing when I kissed her. She and Sis were on
their way to something or other.

     "Trimmed up like Easter hats, you two!" I said.

     "School has not changed you, I fear, Barbara," mother
observed. "I hope you are studying hard."

     "Exactly as hard as I have to. No more, no less," I regret
to confess that I replied. And I saw Sis and mother exchange
glances of signifacance.

     We dropped them at the Reception and father went to his
office and I went on home alone. And all at once I began to be
embittered. Sis had everything, and what had I? And when I got
home, and saw that Sis had had her room done over, and ivory
toilet things on her dressing table, and two perfectly huge
boxes of candy on a stand and a Ball Gown laid out on the bed,
I almost wept.

     My own room was just as I had left it. It had been the
night nursery, and there was still the dent in the mantel where
I had thrown a hair brush at Sis, and the ink spot on the carpet
at the foot of the bed, and everything.

     Mademoiselle had gone, and Hannah, mother's maid, came to
help me off with my things. I slammed the door in her face, and
sat down on the bed and _raged_.

     They still thought I was a little girl. They _patronized_
me. I would hardly have been surprised If they had sent up a
bread and milk supper on a tray. It was then and there that I
made up my mind to show them that I was no longer a mere child.
That the time was gone when they could shut me up in the nursery
and forget me. I was seventeen years and eleven days old, and
Juliet, in Shakspeare, was only sixteen when she had her
well-known affair with Romeo.

     I had no plan then. It was not until the next afternoon
that the thing sprung (sprang?) full-pannoplied from the head of
Jove.

     The evening was rather dreary. The family was going out,
but not until nine thirty, and mother and Leila went over my
clothes. They sat, Sis in pink chiffon and mother in black and
silver, and Hannah took out my things and held them up. I was
obliged to silently sit by, while my rags and misery were
exposed.

     "Why this open humiliation?" I demanded at last. "I am the
family Cinderella, I admit it. But it isn't necessary to lay so
much emphacis on it, is it?"

     "Don't be sarcastic, Barbara," said mother. "You are still
only a Child, and a very untidy Child at that. What do you do
with your elbows to rub them through so? It must have taken
patience and aplication."

     "Mother" I said, "am I to have the party dresses?"

     "Two. Very simple."

     "Low in the neck?"

     "Certainly not. A small v, perhaps."

     "I've got a good neck." She rose impressively.

     "You amaze and shock me, Barbara," she said coldly.

     "I shouldn't have to wear tulle around my shoulders to hide
the bones!" I retorted. "Sis is rather thin."

     "You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said,
looking up at me. I am two inches taller than she is.

     "Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no
parties for you, and no party dresses."

     This was the speach that broke the Camel's back. I could
endure no more.

     "I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end
everything."

     Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking
the fatal step? But it was not deliberate mendasity. It was
Despair.

     Mother actually went white. She cluched me by the arm and
shook me.

     "What are you saying?" she demanded.

     "I think you heard me, mother" I said, very politely. I was
however thinking hard.

     "Marry whom? Barbara, answer me."

     "I don't know. Anybody."

     "She's trying to frighten you, mother" Sis said. "There
isn't anybody. Don't let her fool you."

     "Oh, isn't there?" I said in a dark and portentious manner.

     Mother gave me a long look, and went out. I heard her go
into father's dressing-room. But Sis sat on my bed and watched
me.

     "Who is it, Bab?" she asked. "The dancing teacher? Or your
riding master? Or the school plumber?"

     "Guess again."

     "You're just enough of a little Simpleton to get tied up to
some wreched creature and disgrace us all."

     I wish to state here that until that moment I had no
intention of going any further with the miserable business. I am
naturaly truthful, and Deception is hateful to me. But when my
sister uttered the above dispariging remark I saw that, to
preserve my own dignaty, which I value above precious stones, I
would be compelled to go on.

     "I'm perfectly mad about him," I said. "And he's crazy
about me."

     "I'd like very much to know," Sis said, as she stood up and
stared at me, "how much you are making up and how much is true."

     None the less, I saw that she was terrafied. The family
Kitten, to speak in allegory, had become a Lion and showed its
clause.

     When she had gone out I tried to think of some one to hang
a love affair to. But there seemed to be nobody. They knew
perfectly well that the dancing master had one eye and three
children, and that the clergyman at school was elderly, with two
wives. One dead.

     I searched my Past, but it was blameless. It was empty and
bare, and as I looked back and saw how little there had been in
it but imbibing wisdom and playing basket-ball and tennis, and
typhoid fever when I was fourteen and almost having to have my
head shaved, a great wave of bitterness agatated me.

     "Never again," I observed to myself with firmness. "Never
again, If I have to invent a member of the Other Sex."

     At that time, however, owing to the appearance of Hannah
with a mending basket, I got no further than his name.

     It was Harold. I decided to have him dark, with a very
small black mustache, and Passionate eyes. I felt, too, that he
would be jealous. The eyes would be of the smouldering type,
showing the green-eyed monster beneath.

     I was very much cheered up. At least they could not ignore
me any more, and I felt that they would see the point. If I was
old enough to have a lover--especialy a jealous one with the
aformentioned eyes--I was old enough to have the necks of my
frocks cut out.

     While they were getting their wraps on in the lower hall,
I counted my money. I had thirteen dollars. It was enough for a
Plan I was beginning to have in mind.

     "Go to bed early, Barbara," mother said when they were
ready to go out.

     "You don't mind if I write a letter, do you?"

     "To whom?"

     "Oh, just a letter," I said, and she stared at me coldly.

     "I daresay you will write it, whether I consent or not.
Leave it on the hall table, and it will go out with the morning
mail."

     "I may run out to the box with it."

     "I forbid your doing anything of the sort."

     "Oh, very well," I responded meekly.

     "If there is such haste about it, give it to Hannah to
mail."

     "Very well," I said.

     She made an excuse to see Hannah before she left, and I
knew _that I was being watched_. I was greatly excited, and
happier than I had been for weeks. But when I had settled myself
in the Library, with the paper in front of me, I could not think
of anything to say in a letter. So I wrote a poem instead.

        _"To H----_

        _"Dear love: you seem so far away,_

          _I would that you were near._

        _I do so long to hear you say_

          _Again, `I love you, dear.'_

        _"Here all is cold and drear and strange_

          _With none who with me tarry,_

        _I hope that soon we can arrange_

          _To run away and marry."_

     The last verse did not scan, exactly, but I wished to use
the word "marry" if possible. It would show, I felt, that things
were really serious and impending. A love affair is only a love
affair, but Marriage is Marriage, and the end of everything.

     It was at that moment, 10 o'clock, that the Strange Thing
occurred which did not seem strange at all at the time, but
which developed into so great a mystery later on. Which was to
actualy threaten my reason and which, flying on winged feet, was
to send me back here to school the day after Christmas and put
my seed pearl necklace in the safe deposit vault. Which was very
unfair, for what had my necklace to do with it? And just now,
when I need comfort, it--the necklace--would help to releive my
exile.

     Hannah brought me in a cup of hot milk, with a Valentine's
malted milk tablet dissolved in it.

     As I stirred it around, it occurred to me that Valentine
would be a good name for Harold. On the spot I named him Harold
Valentine, and I wrote the name on the envelope that had the
poem inside, and addressed it to the town where this school gets
its mail.

     It looked well written out. "Valentine," also, is a word
that naturaly connects itself with affairs _de cour_. And I felt
that I was safe, for as there was no Harold Valentine, he could
not call for the letter at the post office, and would therefore
not be able to cause me any trouble, under any circumstances.
And, furthermore. I knew that Hannah would not mail the letter
anyhow, but would give it to mother. So, even if there was a
Harold Valentine, he would never get it.

     Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk,
ignorant of the fact that Destiny, "which never swerves, nor
yields to men the helm"--Emerson, was stocking at my heels.

     Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the
envelope to Harold Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went
out the front door with it, as I had expected, but I watched
from a window, and she turned right around and went in the area
way. So _that_ was all right.

     It had worked like a Charm. I could tear my hair now when
I think how well it worked. I ought to have been suspicious for
that very reason. When things go very well with me at the start,
it is a sure sign that they are going to blow up eventualy.

     Mother and Sis slept late the next morning, and I went out
stealthily and did some shopping. First I bought myself a bunch
of violets, with a white rose in the center, and I printed on
the card:

     "My love is like a white, white rose. H." And sent it to
myself.

     It was deception, I acknowledge, but having put my hand to
the Plow, I did not intend to steer a crooked course. I would go
straight to the end. I am like that in everything I do. But, on
delibarating things over, I felt that Violets, alone and
unsuported, were not enough. I felt that If I had a photograph,
it would make everything more real. After all, what is a love
affair without a picture of the Beloved Object?

     So I bought a photograph. It was hard to find what I
wanted, but I got it at last in a stationer's shop, a young man
in a checked suit with a small mustache--the young man, of
course, not the suit. Unluckaly, he was rather blonde, and had
a dimple in his chin. But he looked exactly as though his name
ought to be Harold.

     I may say here that I chose "Harold," not because it is a
favorite name of mine, but because it is romantic in sound. Also
because I had never known any one named Harold and it seemed
only discrete.

     I took it home in my muff and put it under my pillow where
Hannah would find it and probably take it to mother. I wanted to
buy a ring too, to hang on a ribbon around my neck. But the
violets had made a fearful hole in my thirteen dollars.

     I borrowed a stub pen at the stationer's and I wrote on the
photograph, in large, sprawling letters, "To _you_ from _me_."

     "There," I said to myself, when I put it under the pillow.
"You look like a photograph, but you are really a bomb-shell."

     As things eventuated, it was. More so, indeed.

     Mother sent for me when I came in. She was sitting in front
of her mirror, having the vibrater used on her hair, and her
manner was changed. I guessed that there had been a family
Counsel over the poem, and that they had decided to try
kindness.

     "Sit down, Barbara," she said. "I hope you were not lonely
last night?"

     "I am never lonely, mother. I always have things to think
about."

     I said this in a very pathetic tone.

     "What sort of things?" mother asked, rather sharply.

     "Oh--things," I said vaguely. "Life is such a mess, isn't
it?"

     "Certainly not. Unless one makes it so."

     "But it is so difficult. Things come up and--and it's hard
to know what to do. The only way, I suppose, is to be true to
one's beleif in one's self."

     "Take that thing off my head and go out, Hannah," mother
snapped. "Now then, Barbara, what in the world has come over
you?"

     "Over me? Nothing."

     "You are being a silly child."

     "I am no longer a child, mother. I am seventeen. And at
seventeen there are problems. After all, one's life is one's
own. One must decide----"

     "Now, Barbara, I am not going to have any nonsense. You
must put that man out of your head."

     "Man? What man?"

     "You think you are in love with some drivelling young Fool.
I'm not blind, or an idot. And I won't have it."

     "I have not said that there is anyone, have I?" I said in
a gentle voice. "But if there was, just what would you propose
to do, mother?"

     "If you were three years younger I'd propose to spank you."
Then I think she saw that she was taking the wrong method, for
she changed her Tactics. "It's the fault of that Silly School,"
she said. (Note: These are my mother's words, not mine.) "They
are hotbeds of sickley sentamentality. They----"

     And just then the violets came, addressed to me. Mother
opened them herself, her mouth set. "My love is like a white,
white rose," she said. "Barbara, do you know who sent these?"

     "Yes, mother," I said meekly. This was quite true. I did.

     I am indeed sorry to record that here my mother lost her
temper, and there was no end of a fuss. It ended by mother
offering me a string of seed pearls for Christmas, and my party
dresses cut V front and back, if I would, as she phrazed it,
"put him out of my silly head."

     "I shall have to write one letter, mother," I said, "to--to
break things off. I cannot tear myself out of another's Life
without a word."

     She sniffed.

     "Very well," she said. "One letter. I trust you to make it
only one."

     I come now to the next day. How true it is, that "Man's
life is but a jest, a dream, a shadow, bubble, air, a vapour at
the best!"

     I spent the morning with mother at the dressmakers and she
chose two perfectly spiffing things, one of white chiffon over
silk, made modafied Empire, with little bunches of roses here
and there on it, and when she and the dressmaker were hagling
over the roses, I took the scizzors and cut the neck of the
lining two inches lower in front. The effect was posatively
impressive. The other was blue over orkid, a perfectly
passionate combination.

     When we got home some of the girls had dropped in, and
Carter Brooks and Sis were having tea in the den. I am perfectly
sure that Sis threw a cigarette in the fire when I went in. When
I think of my sitting here alone, when I have done _nothing_,
and Sis playing around and smoking cigarettes, and nothing said,
all for a difference of 2O months, it makes me furious.

     "Let's go in and play with the children, Leila," he said.
"I'm feeling young today."

     Which was perfectly silly. He is not Methuzala. Although
thinking himself so, or almost.

     Well, they went into the drawing room. Elaine Adams was
there waiting for me, and Betty Anderson and Jane Raleigh. And
I hadn't been in the room five minutes before I knew that they
all knew. It turned out later that Hannah was engaged to the
Adams's butler, and she had told him, and he had told Elaine's
governess, who is still there and does the ordering, and Elaine
sends her stockings home for her to darn.

     Sis had told Carter, too, I saw that, and among them they
had rather a good time. Carter sat down at the piano and struck
a few chords, chanting "My Love is like a white, white rose."

     "Only you know" he said, turning to me, "that's wrong. It
ought to be a `red, red rose.'"

     "Certainly not. The word is `white.'"

     "Oh, is it?" he said, with his head on one side. "Strange
that both you and Harold should have got it wrong."

     I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment.

     Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring.

     "I do so love to pour!" he said. "Really, after a long
day's shopping, tea is the only thing that keeps me going until
dinner. Cream or lemon, Leila dear?"

     "Both," Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me.
"Barbara, come into the den a moment. I want to show you
mother's Xmas gift."

     She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the
table. Under it was the photograph.

     "You wretched child!" she said. "Where did you get that?"

     "That's not your affair, is it?"

     "I'm going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?"

     "Have you read what's written on it?"

     "Where did you meet him?"

     I hesitated because I am by nature truthfull. But at last
I said:

     "At school."

     "Oh," she said slowly. "So you met him at school! What was
he doing there? Teaching elocution?"

     "Elocution!"

     "This is Harold, is it?"

     "Certainly." Well, he _was_ Harold, if I chose to call him
that, wasn't he? Sis gave a little sigh.

     "You're quite hopeless, Bab. And, although I'm perfectly
sure you want me to take the thing to mother, I'll do nothing of
the sort."

     _She flung it into the fire_. I was raging. It had cost me
a dollar. It was quite brown when I got it out, and a corner was
burned off. But I got it.

     "I'll thank you to burn your own things," I said with
dignaty. And I went back to the drawing room.

     The girls and Carter Brooks were talking in an undertone
when I got there. I knew it was about me. And Jane came over to
me and put her arm around me.

     "You poor thing!" she said. "Just fight it out. We're all
with you."

     "I'm so helpless, Jane." I put all the despair I could into
my voice. For after all, if they were going to talk about my
private Affairs behind my back, I felt that they might as well
have something to talk about. As Jane's second couzin once
removed is in this school and as Jane will probably write her
all about it, I hope this Theme is read aloud in class, so she
will get it all straight. Jane is imaginative and may have a
wrong idea of things.

     "Don't give in. Let them bully you. They can't really do
anything. And they're scared. Leila is positively sick."

     "I've promised to write and break it off," I said in a
tence tone.

     "If he really loves you," said Jane, "the letter won't
matter." There was a thrill in her voice. Had I not been uneasy
at my deciet, I to would have thrilled.

     Some fresh muffins came in just then and I was starveing.
But I waved them away, and stood staring at the fire.

     I am writing all of this as truthfully as I can. I am not
defending myself. What I did I was driven to, as any one can
see. It takes a real shock to make the average Familey wake up
to the fact that the youngest daughter is not the Familey baby
at seventeen. All I was doing was furnishing the shock. If
things turned out badly, as they did, it was because I rather
overdid the thing. That is all. My motives were perfectly
ireproachible.

     Well, they fell on the muffins like pigs, and I could
hardly stand it. So I wandered into the den, and it occurred to
me to write the letter then. I felt that they all expected me to
do something anyhow.

     If I had never written the wretched letter things would be
better now. As I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so
smoothly all day that I was decieved. But the real reason was a
new set of furs. I had secured the dresses and the promise of
the necklace on a Poem and a Photograph, and I thought that a
good love letter might bring a muff. It all shows that it does
not do to be grasping.

     _Had I not written the letter, there would have been no
tradgedy_.

     But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a _letter_. I
commenced it "Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and
that I would always love him. But I told him that the Familey
objected to him, and that this was to end everything between us.
They had started the phonograph in the library, and were playing
"The Rosary." So I ended with a verse from that. It was really
a most affecting letter. I almost wept over it myself, because,
if there had been a Harold, it would have broken his Heart.

     Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she
would give it to mother. Then, after the family had read it and
it had got in its work, including the set of furs, they were
welcome to mail it. It would go to the Dead Letter Office, since
there was no Harold. It could not come back to me, for I had
only signed it "Barbara." I had it all figured out carefully. It
looked as if I had everything to gain, including the furs, and
nothing to lose. Alas, how little I knew!

     "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay."
Burns.

     Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and
stood gazing down at me.

     "You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I
suppose all the customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year
for what's his name."

     "I don't understand you."

     "For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better
if his name wasn't Harold."

     "I don't see how it concerns you," I responded.

     "Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many
years! First as a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a
sub-deb. Next year, when you are a real Debutante----"

     "You've concealed your infatuation bravely."

     "It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow
melancholly--hello! A letter to him!"

     "Why, so it is," I said in a scornfull tone.

     He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and
stared at me.

     "No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!"

     Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock.

     "It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly.

     "Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it!
And not a word to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He
held out his hand to me. "Congratulations, Barbara," he said
heartily. "Since you absolutely refuse me, you couldn't do
better. He's the finest chap I know. If it's Valentine the
Familey is kicking up such a row about, you leave it to me. I'll
tell them a few things."

     I was stunned. Would anybody have beleived it? To pick a
name out of the air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet,
and then to find that it actualy belonged to some one--was
sickning.

     "It may not be the one you know" I said desperately.
"It--it's a common name. There must be plenty of Valentines."

     "Sure there are, lace paper and Cupids--lots of that sort.
But there's only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him
pinned to the wall! I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a
real friend of yours. Always have been. Always will be. The
chances are against the Familey letting him get this letter.
I'll give it to him."

     "_Give _it to him?"

     "Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town
over the holadays."

     "Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice.

     "Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprize to you.
Yes, he's here, with bells on."

     He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes,
and sat down on the corner of the writing table!

     "You don't know how all this has releived my mind," he
said. "The poor chap's been looking down. Not interested in
anything. Of course this explains it. He' s the sort to take
Love hard. At college he took everything hard--like to have died
once with German meazles."

     He picked up a book, and the charred picture was
underneath. He pounced on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right
word.

     "Hello!" he said. "Familey again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal,
all right. Well, who would have thought it!"

     My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I
was compelled to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from
chattering.

     "Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerfull
tone that made me cold all over. "I'll be the Cupid for your
Valentine. See? Far be it from me to see Love's young dream
wiped out by a hardhearted Familey. I'm going to see this thing
through. You count on me, Barbara. I'll arrange that you get a
chance to see each other, Familey or no Familey. Old Hal has
been looking down his nose long enough. When's your first
party?"

     "Tomorrow night," I gasped out.

     "Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams's, isn't
it, at the Club?"

     I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all
clearly. I had been wicked in decieving my dear Familey and now
I was to pay the Penalty. He would know at once that I had made
him up, or rather he did not know me and therefore could not
possibly be in Love with me. And what then?

     "But look here," he said, "if I take him there as
Valentine, the Familey will be on, you know. We'd better call
him something else. Got any choice as to a name?"

     "Carter" I said franticaly. "I think I'd better tell you.
I----"

     "How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on.
"Grosvenor's a good name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them
between the eyes. It's going to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!"

     And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks
idiot went in and poured her a cup of tea, with his little
finger stuck out at a right angel, and every time he had a
chance he winked at me.

     I wanted to die.

     When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the
whole thing. It could not be true. I went upstairs and manacured
my nails, which usually comforts me, and put my hair up like
Leila's.

     But nothing could calm me. I had made my own Fate, and must
lie in it. And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her
hands and her eyes frightened.

     "Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!"

     I dropped my manacure scizzors, I was so alarmed. But I
opened the box, and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from
H----." Then Carter was right. There was an H after all!

     Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were
poping out of her head.

     "I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said,
with her silly teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick
had answered the bell! What shall we do with them?"

     "You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if
it was an empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers.
Quick."

     She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come
in just then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one
glance, and she snatched the card out of my hand.

     "From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw
them away. No, don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table."
Then, when the door had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more
ridiculous Episode of this kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go
back to school--Xmas or no Xmas."

     I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness,
I'd have told her the whole thing. But she did not. She looked
exactly as gentle as a macadam pavment. I am one who has to be
handled with Gentleness. A kind word will do anything with me,
but harsh treatment only makes me determined. I then become
inflexable as iron.

     That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course
and threatened, which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am
concerned. I refused to yeild an inch, and it ended in my having
my dinner in my room, and mother threatening to keep me home
from the Party the next night. It was not a threat, if she had
only known it.

     But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, and
nothing aparently wrong except that mother was very dignafied
with me, I began to feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the
afternoon Jane called me up.

     "How are you?" she said.

     "Oh, I'm all right."

     "Everything smooth?"

     "Well, smooth enough."

     "Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the
girls are."

     "I knew they were crazy about something."

     "You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said.
"Somebody's coming. I'll have to ring off. But don't you give
in, Bab. Not an inch. Marry your Heart's Desire, no matter who
butts in."

     Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told
father and mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls
knew about it, and there was nothing to do but go on.

     All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart
missed a beat. But as I would not lie and say that I was ill--I
am naturaly truthful, as far as possible--I was compelled to go,
although my heart was breaking.

     I am not going to write much about the party, except a
slight discription, which properly belongs in every Theme.

     All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range
from knickerbockers to college men in their Freshmen year, and
one is likely to dance half the evening with youngsters that one
saw last in their perambulaters. It is rather startling to have
about six feet of black trouser legs and white shirt front come
and ask one to dance and then to get one's eyes raised as far as
the top of what looks like a particularly thin pair of tree
trunks and see a little boy's face.

     As this Theme is to contain discription I shall discribe
the ball room of the club where the eventful party occurred.

     The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like
a Charlotte Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace
they had put "Merry Christmas," in electric lights, and the
chandaliers were made into Christmas trees and hung with colored
balls. One of the balls fell off during the Cotillion, and went
down the back of one of the girl's dresses, and they were
compelled to up-end her and shake her out in the dressing room.

     The favors were insignifacant, as usual. It is not
considered good taste to have elaberate things for the school
crowd. But when I think of the silver things Sis always brought
home, and remember that I took away about six Christmas
Stockings, a toy Baloon, four Whistles, a wooden Canary in a
cage and a box of Talcum Powder, I feel that things are not fair
in this World.

     Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said:

     "Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The Familey is that
upset."

     "Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the Familey is half as
upset as I am, it is throwing a fit at this minute."

     We were early, of course. My mother beleives in being on
time, and besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while
Hannah was on her knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly
decided that I could not go down. Hannah turned quite pale when
I told her.

     "What'll your mother say?" she said." And you with your new
dress and all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back
home now, Miss Barbara."

     Well, that was true enough. There would be a Riot if I went
home, and I knew it.

     "I'll see the Stuard and get you a cup of tea," Hannah
said. "Tea sets me up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please
be a good girl, Miss Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything
foolish."

     She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could
not have run anywhere. My legs were entirely numb.

     In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and
very likely I would be a homless wanderer on the earth. For I
felt that never, never could I return to my Dear Ones, when my
terrable actions became known.

     Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off
and eyed me with sympathy.

     "I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your Familey
acting so outragously! And look here" She bent over me and
whispered it. "Don't trust Carter too much. He is perfectly in
fatuated with Leila, and he will play into the hands of the
enemy. _Be careful_."

     "Loathesome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting
him, I trust no one, these days."

     "I don't wonder your Faith is gone," she observed. But she
was talking with one eye on a mirror.

     "Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a
drawer full of rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for
you? You look gastly."

     "I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think
I'll sprain my ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use
rouge."

     "Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with
it? I don't understand you, Bab; you are totaly changed."

     "I am suffering," I said. I was to.

     Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was
hanging up my wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly
bulged.

     "I hope you have saved the Cotillion for me," it said. And
it was signed. H----!

     "Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly."Don't tell me he
is here, and that that's from him!"

     I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said,
solemnly:

     "He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance
the Cotillion with him although I shall probably be disinherited
and thrown out into the World, as a result."

     I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase
and into the ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave,
and once saved one of the smaller girls from drowning, as I need
not remind the school, when she was skating on thin ice, I was
frightened. I remember that, inside the door, Jane said
"Courage!" in a low tence voice, and that I stepped on
somebody's foot and said "Certainly" instead of apologizing. The
shock of that brought me around somewhat, and I managed to find
Mrs. Adams and Elaine, and not disgrace myself. Then somebody at
my elbow said:

     "All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed."

     It was Carter.

     "He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd
better go through the formalaty of an introduction. He's
positively twittering with excitement."

     "Carter" I said desparately. "I want to tell you somthing
first. I've got myself in an awful mess. I----"

     "Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you
out. Now you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't
have the evening of your young lives. I wish _I_ could fall in
Love. It must be bully."

     "Carter----!"

     "Got his note, didn't you?"

     "Yes, I----"

     "Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like
to present Mr. Grosvenor."

     Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and
looked down at me. _It was the man of the Picture, little
mustache and all_. My mouth went perfectly dry.

     It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all
that sort of thing. But I have concluded that amorus experiences
are not always agreeable. And I have discovered something else.
The moment anybody is crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is
curious, but I am like that. I only care as long as they, or he,
is far away. And the moment I touched H's white kid glove, I
knew I loathed him.

     "Now go to it, you to," Carter said in cautious tone.
"Don't be conspicuous. That's all."

     And he left us.

     "Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next
moment we were gliding off. He danced very well. I will say
that. But at the time I was too much occupied with hateing him
to care about dancing, or anything. But I was compelled by my
pride to see things through. We are a very proud Familey and
never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn with anguish.

     "Think," he said, when we had got away from the band,
"think of our being together like this!"

     "It's not so surprizing, is it? We've got to be together if
we are dancing."

     "Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this
has been. The thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that."

     "You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freesingly. "You
know perfectly well that you never saw me before."

     "Barbara! With your dear little Letter in my breast pocket
at this moment!"

     "I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening
clothes."

     "Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel,"
he said. "How well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How
strange it is to think that we have never danced together
before!"

     "We must have a talk," I said desparately. "Can't we go
somwhere, away from the noise?"

     "That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the
circumstances? If we are to overcome the Familey objection to
me, we'll have to be cautious, Barbara."

     "Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well
what you think of me, and I----"

     "I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when
I try to tell you what I am thinking. You've saved the Cotillion
for me, haven't you? If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. _It
is my right_."

     He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything
was settled. I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching
from a corner, looked exactly like a cat. If he had taken his
hand in its white glove and washed his face with it, I would
hardly have been surprized.

     The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next.
Jane came up, too, and cluched my arm.

     "You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And
oh, Bab, he's wild about you. I can see it in his eyes."

     "Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's
an idiot."

     She looked at me with her mouth open.

     "Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said,
and walked away.

     It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to
dance the next dance with Willie Graham, who is still in
knickerbockers, and a full head shorter than I am. But that's
the way with a Party for the school crowd, as I've said before.
They ask all ages, from perambulaters up, and of course the
little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It is deadly
stupid.

     But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with
Jane, who is a wreched dancer, with no sense of time whatever.
Jane is not pretty, but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid,
second couzin once removed or no second couzin once removed, to
say she used them.

     Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three
dances out of four with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr.
Adams, who is fat and rotates his partner at the corners by
swinging her on his waistcoat. Carter did not dance at all, and
every time I tried to speak to him he was taking a crowd of the
little girls to the fruit-punch bowl.

     I determined to have things out with H during the
Cotillion, and tell him that I would never marry him, that I
would Die first. But I was favored a great deal, and when we did
have a chance the music was making such a noise that I would
have had to shout. Our chairs were next to the band.

     But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the
verandah, which was closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of
course, and I turned and faced him.

     "Now" I said, "this has got to stop."

     "I don't understand you, Bab."

     "You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I
am going crazy. "

     "Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much
with the little girl with the eyes! Honestly, Bab, I was only
doing it to disarm suspicion. _My Every Thought is of you_."

     "I mean," I said, as firmly as I could, "that this whole
thing has got to stop. I can't stand it."

     "Am I to understand," he said solemnly, "that you intend to
end everything?"

     I felt perfectly wild and helpless.

     "After that Letter!" he went on. "After that sweet Letter!
You said, you know, that you were mad to see me, and that--it is
almost too sacred to repeat, even to _you_--that you would
always love me. After that Confession I refuse to agree that all
is over. It can _never_ be over."

     "I daresay I am losing my mind," I said. "It all sounds
perfectly natural. But it doesn't mean anything. There _can't_
be any Harold Valentine; because I made him up. But there is, so
there must be. And I am going crazy."

     "Look here," he stormed, suddenly quite raving, and
throwing out his right hand. It would have been terrably
dramatic, only he had a glass of punch in it. "I am not going to
be played with. And you are not going to jilt me without a
reason. Do you mean to deny everything? Are you going to say,
for instance, that I never sent you any violets? Or gave you my
Photograph, with an--er--touching inscription on it?" Then,
appealingly, "You can't mean to deny that Photograph, Bab!"

     And then that lanky wretch of an Eddie Perkins brought me
a toy Baloon, and I had to dance, with my heart crushed.

     Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed
Strength. It was quite a grown-up supper, with boullion and
creamed chicken and baked ham and sandwitches, among other
things. But of course they had to show it was a `kid' party,
after all. For instead of coffee we had milk.

     Milk! When I was going through a tradgedy. For if it is not
a tradgedy to be engaged to a man one never saw before, what is
it?

     All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes
were on me. And I hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to
say he was handsome. She wasn't going to have to marry him. I
detest dimples in chins. I always have. And anybody could see
that it was his first mustache, and soft, and that he took it
round like a mother pushing a new baby in a perambulater. It was
sickning.

     I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went
upstairs, but he had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down,
he was at the door, waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly
favors, and lagged behind, which gave him a chance to speak to
me. I eyed him coldly and tried to pass him, but I had no
chance.

     "I'll see you tomorrow, _dearest_," he whispered.

     "Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead.
Hannah had dropped a stocking--not her own. One of the Xmas
favors--and was fumbling about for it.

     "You are tired and unerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen
your father tomorrow, and talked to him----"

     "Don't you dare to see my father."

     "----and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on,
without paying any atention to what I had said, "you will be
calmer. We can plan things."

     Hannah came puffing up then, and he helped us into the
motor. He was very careful to see that we were covered with the
robes, and he tucked Hannah's feet in. She was awfully
flattered. Old Fool! And she babbled about him until I wanted to
slap her.

     "He's a nice young man. Miss Bab," she said. "That is, if
he's the One. And he has nice manners. So considerate. Many a
party I've taken your sister to, and never before----"

     "I wish you'd shut up, Hannah," I said. "He's a Pig, and I
hate him."

     She sulked after that, and helped me out of my things at
home without a word. When I was in bed, however, and she was
hanging up my clothes, she said:

     "I don't know what's got into you, Miss Barbara. You are
that cross that there's no living with you."

     "Oh, go away," I said.

     "And what's more," she added, "I don't know but what your
mother ought to know about these goingson. You're only a little
girl, with all your high and mightiness, and there's going to be
no scandal in this Familey if I can help it."

     I put the bedclothes over my head, and she went out.

     But of course I could not sleep. Sis was not home yet, or
mother, and I went into Sis's room and got a novel from her
table. It was the story of a woman who had married a man in a
hurry, and without really loving him, and when she had been
married a year, and hated the very way her husband drank his
coffee and cut the ends off his cigars, she found some one she
really loved with her Whole Heart. And it was too late. But she
wrote him one Letter, the other man, you know, and it caused a
lot of trouble. So she said--I remember the very words--

     "Half the troubles in the world are caused by Letters.
Emotions are changable things"--this was after she had found
that she really loved her husband after all, but he had had to
shoot himself before she found it out, although not fataly--"but
the written word does not change. It remains always, embodying
a dead truth and giving it apparent life. No woman should ever
put her thoughts on paper."

     She got the Letter back, but she had to steal it. And it
turned out that the other man had really only wanted her money
all the time.

     That story was a real ilumination to me. I shall have a
great deal of money when I am of age, from my grandmother. I saw
it all. It was a trap sure enough. And if I was to get out I
would have to have the letter.

     _It was the Letter that put me in his power_.

     The next day was Xmas. I got a lot of things, including the
necklace, and a mending basket from Sis, with the hope that it
would make me tidey, and father had bought me a set of Silver
Fox, which mother did not approve of, it being too expencive for
a young girl to wear, according to her. I must say that for an
hour or two I was happy enough.

     But the afternoon was terrable. We keep open house on Xmas
afternoon, and father makes a champagne punch, and somebody
pours tea, although nobody drinks it, and there are little cakes
from the Club, and the house is decorated with poin--(Memo: Not
in the Dictionery and I cannot spell it, although not usualy
troubled as to spelling.)

     At eleven o'clock the mail came in, and mother sorted it
over, while father took a gold piece out to the post-man.

     There were about a million cards, and mother glanced at the
addresses and passed them round. But suddenly she frowned. There
was a small parcel, addressed to me.

     "This looks like a Gift, Barbara," she said. And proceded
to open it.

     My heart skipped two beats, and then hamered. Mother's
mouth was set as she tore off the paper and opened the box.
There was a card, which she glanced at, and underneath, was a
book of poems.

     "Love Lyrics," said mother, in a terrable voice. "To
Barbara, from H----"

     "Mother----" I began, in an ernest tone.

     "A child of mine recieving such a book from a man!" she
went on. "Barbara, I am speachless."

     But she was not speachless. If she was speachless for the
next half hour, I would hate to hear her really converse. And
all that I could do was to bear it. For I had made a
Frankenstein--see the book read last term by the Literary
Society--not out of grave-yard fragments, but from malted milk
tablets, so to speak, and now it was pursuing me to an early
grave. For I felt that I simply could not continue to live.

     "Now--where does he live?"

     "I--don't know, mother."

     "You sent him a Letter."

     "I don't know where he lives, anyhow."

     "Leila," mother said, "will you ask Hannah to bring my
smelling salts?"

     "Aren't you going to give me the book?" I asked. "It--it
sounds interesting."

     "You are shameless," mother said, and threw the thing into
the fire. A good many of my things seemed to be going into the
fire at that time. I cannot help wondering what they would have
done if it had all happened in the summer, and no fires burning.
They would have felt quite helpless, I imagine.

     Father came back just then, but he did not see the Book,
which was then blazing with a very hot red flame. I expected
mother to tell him, and I daresay I should not have been
surprised to see my furs follow the book. I had got into the way
of expecting to see things burning that do not belong in a
fireplace. But mother did not tell him.

          I have thought over this a great deal, and I beleive
that now I understand. Mother was unjustly putting the blame for
everything on this School, and mother had chosen the School. My
father had not been much impressed by the catalogue. "Too much
dancing room and not enough tennis courts," he had said. This,
of course, is my father's opinion. Not mine.

     The real reason, then, for mother's silence was that she
disliked confessing that she made a mistake in her choice of a
School.

     I ate very little Luncheon and my only comfort was my seed
pearls. I was wearing them, for fear the door-bell would ring,
and a Letter or flowers would arrive from H. In that case I felt
quite sure that someone, in a frenzy, would burn the Pearls
also.

     The afternoon was terrable. It rained solid sheets, and
Patrick, the butler, gave notice three hours after he had
recieved his Xmas presents, on account of not being let off for
early mass.

     But my father's punch is famous, and people came, and stood
around and buzzed, and told me I had grown and was almost a
young lady. And Tommy Gray got out of his cradle and came to
call on me, and coughed all the time, with a whoop. He developed
the whooping cough later. He had on his first long trousers, and
a pair of lavender Socks and a Tie to match. He said they were
not exactly the same shade, but he did not think it would be
noticed. Hateful child!

     At half past five, when the place was jamed, I happened to
look up. Carter Brooks was in the hall, and behind him was H. He
had seen me before I saw him, and he had a sort of sickley grin,
meant to denote joy. I was talking to our Bishop at the time,
and he was asking me what sort of services we had in the school
chapel.

     I meant to say "non-sectarian," but in my surprize and
horror I regret to say that I said, "vegetarian." Carter Brooks
came over to me like a cat to a saucer of milk, and pulled me
off into a corner.

     "It's all right," he said. "I 'phoned mama, and she said to
bring him. He's known as Grosvenor here, of course. They'll
never suspect a thing. Now, do I get a small `thank you'?"

     "I won't see him."

     "Now look here, Bab," he protested, "you two have got to
make this thing up You are a pair of Idiots, quarreling over
nothing. Poor old Hal is all broken up. He's sensative. You've
got to remember how sensative he is."

     "Go, away" I cried, in broken tones. "Go away, and take him
with you."

     "Not until he had spoken to your Father," he observed,
setting his jaw. "He's here for that, and you know it. You can't
play fast and loose with a man, you know."

     "Don't you dare to let him speak to father!"

     He shrugged his shoulders.

     "That's between you to, of course," he said. "It's not up
to me. Tell him yourself, if you've changed your mind. I don't
intend," he went on, impressively, "to have any share in ruining
his life."

     "Oh piffle," I said. I am aware that this is slang, and
does not belong in a Theme. But I was driven to saying it.

     I got through the crowd by using my elbows. I am afraid I
gave the Bishop quite a prod, and I caught Mr. Andrews on his
rotateing waistcoat. But I was desparate.

     Alas, I was too late.

     The caterer's man, who had taken Patrick's place in a
hurry, was at the punch bowl, and father was gone. I was just in
time to see him take H. into his library and close the door.

     Here words fail me. I knew perfectly well that beyond that
door H, whom I had invented and who therefore simply did not
exist, was asking for my Hand. I made up my mind at once to run
away and go on the stage, and I had even got part way up the
stairs, when I remembered that, with a dollar for the picture
and five dollars for the violets and three dollars for the hat
pin I had given Sis, and two dollars and a quarter for mother's
handkercheif case, I had exactly a dollar and seventy-five cents
in the world.

     _I was trapped_.

     I went up to my room, and sat and waited. Would father be
violent, and throw H. out and then come upstairs, pale with fury
and disinherit me? Or would the whole Familey conspire together,
when the people had gone, and send me to a convent? I made up my
mind, if it was the convent, to take the veil and be a nun. I
would go to nurse lepers, or something, and then, when it was
too late, they would be sorry.

     The stage or the convent, nun or actress? Which?

     I left the door open, but there was only the sound of
revelry below. I felt then that it was to be the convent. I
pinned a towel around my face, the way the nuns wear whatever
they call them, and from the side it was very becoming. I really
did look like Julia Marlowe, especialy as my face was very sad
and tradgic.

     At something before seven every one had gone, and I heard
Sis and mother come upstairs to dress for dinner. I sat and
waited, and when I heard father I got cold all over. But he went
on by, and I heard him go into mother's room and close the door.
Well, I knew I had to go through with it, although my life was
blasted. So I dressed and went downstairs.

     Father was the first down. _He came down whistling_.

     It is perfectly true. I could not beleive my ears.

     He approached me with a smileing face.

     "Well, Bab," he said, exactly as if nothing had happened,
"have you had a nice day?"

     He had the eyes of a bacilisk, that creature of Fable.

     "I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be
bacilisk-ish also.

     There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he
turned me around until we both faced it.

     "Up to my ears," he said, referring to my heighth." And
Lovers already! Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to
lose you."

     "I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of
course, if you intend to shove me off your hands, to the first
Idiot who comes along and pretends a lot of stuff, I----"

     "My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an
outburst! All I was trying to say, before your mother comes
down, is that I--well, that I understand and that I shall not
make my little girl unhappy by--er--by breaking her Heart."

     "Just what do you mean by that, father?"

     He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk
sentament.

     "It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry
this young man--and you have made it very clear that you do--I
am going to see that you do it. You are young, of course, but
after all your dear mother was not much older than you are when
I married her."

     "Father!" I cried, from an over-flowing heart.

     "I have noticed that you are not happy, Barbara," he said.
"And I shall not thwart you, or allow you to be thwarted. In
affairs of the Heart, you are to have your own way."

     "I want to tell you something!" I cried. "I will _not_ be
cast off! I----"

     "Tut, tut," said Father. "Who is casting you off? I tell
you that I like the young man, and give you my blessing, or what
is the present-day equivelent for it, and you look like a figure
of Tradgedy!"

     But I could endure no more. My own father had turned on me
and was rending me, so to speak. With a breaking heart and
streaming eyes I flew to my Chamber.

     There, for hours I paced the floor.

     Never, I determined, would I marry H. Better death, by far.
He was a scheming Fortune-hunter, but to tell the family that
was to confess all. And I would never confess. I would run away
before I gave Sis such a chance at me. I would run away, but
first I would kill Carter Brooks.

     Yes, I was driven to thoughts of murder. It shows how the
first false step leads down and down, to crime and even to
death. Oh never, never, gentle reader, take that first False
Step. Who knows to what it may lead!

     "One false Step is never retreived." Gray--On a Favorite
Cat.

     I reflected also on how the woman in the book had ruined
her life with a letter. "The written word does not change," she
had said. "It remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving
it apparent life."

     "Apparent life" was exactly what my letter had given to H.
Frankenstein. That was what I called him, in my agony. I felt
that if only I had never written the Letter there would have
been no trouble. And another awful thought came to me: Was there
an H after all? Could there be an H?

     Once the French teacher had taken us to the theater in New
York, and a woman sitting on a chair and covered with a sheet,
had brought a man out of a perfectly empty Cabinet, by simply
willing to do it. The Cabinet was empty, for four respectible
looking men went up and examined it, and one even measured it
with a Tape-measure.

     She had materialised him, out of nothing.

     And while I had had no Cabinet, there are many things in
this world "that we do not dream of in our Philosophy." Was H.
a real person, or a creature of my disordered brain? In plain
and simple language, _could there be such a Person_?

     I feared not.

     And If there was no H, really, and I married him, where
would I be?

     There was a ball at the Club that night, and the Familey
all went. No one came to say good-night to me, and by half past
ten I was alone with my misery. I knew Carter Brooks would be at
the ball, and H also, very likely, dancing around as agreably as
if he really existed, and I had not made him up.

     I got the book from Sis's room again, and re-read it. The
woman in it had been in great trouble, too, with her husband
cleaning his revolver and making his will. And at last she had
gone to the apartments of the man who had her letters, in a
taxicab covered with a heavy veil, and had got them back. He had
shot himself when she returned--the husband--but she burned the
letters and then called a Doctor, and he was saved. Not the
doctor, of course. The husband.

     The villain's only hold on her had been the letters, so he
went to South Africa and was gored by an elephant, thus passing
out of her life.

     Then and there I knew that I would have to get my letter
back from H. Without it he was powerless. The trouble was that
I did not know where he was staying. Even if he came out of a
Cabinet, the Cabinet would have to be somewhere, would it not?

     I felt that I would have to meet gile with gile. And to
steal one's own letter is not really stealing. Of course if he
was visiting any one and pretending to be a real person, I had
no chance in the world. But if he was stopping at a hotel I
thought I could manage. The man in the book had had an
apartment, with a Japanese servant, who went away and drew plans
of American Forts in the kitchen and left the woman alone with
the desk containing the Letter. But I daresay that was unusualy
lucky and not the sort of thing to look forward to.

     With me, to think is to act. Hannah was out, it being Xmas
and her brother-in-law having a wake, being dead, so I was free
to do anything I wanted to.

     First I called the Club and got Carter Brooks on the
telephone.

     "Carter," I said, "I--I am writing a letter. Where
is--where does H. stay?"

     "Who?"

     "H.--Mr. Grosvenor."

     "Why, bless your ardent little Heart! Writing, are you?
It's sublime, Bab!"

     "Where does he live?"

     "And is it all alone you are, on Xmas Night!" he burbled.
(This is a word from Alice in WonderLand, and although not in
the dictionery, is quite expressive.)

     "Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married
off without my consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball.
It makes me sick."

     "I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him."

     "Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle
him. The Familey is crazy about him. They are flinging me at
him."

     "Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall
I bring him to the 'phone?"

     "I don't want to talk to him. I hate him."

     "Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin
to beleive you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard,
Barbara. He's so happy to-night in the thought that you----"

     "Does he live in a Cabinet, or where?"

     "In a what? I don't get that word."

     "Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?"

     Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the Arcade, and I
rang off. It was after eleven by that time, and by the time I
had got into my school mackintosh and found a heavy veil of
mother's and put it on, it was almost half past.

     The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no
one around in the lower Hall. I slipped out and closed the door
behind me, and looked for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy
that I hailed our own limousine, and Smith had drawn up at the
curb before I knew him.

     "Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll
take you anywhere in the city for a dollar."

     A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the
knowledge that Smith was using our car for a taxicab! And just
as I was about to speak to him severely, and threaten to tell
father, I remembered, and walked away.

     "Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I
went on. It was terrable to think that Smith could go on renting
our car to all sorts of people, covered with germs and
everything, and that I could never report it to the Familey.

     I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the Arcade,
giving the man a quarter, although ten cents would have been
plenty as a tip.

     I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted.

     "This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of
Silence."

     But If he was trustworthy he was not subtile, and he said:

     "The what, miss?"

     "If any one asks if you have driven me here, _you have
not_" I explained, in an impressive manner.

     He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at
it. Then he replied: "I have not!" and drove away.

     Concealing my nervousness as best I could, I entered the
doomed Building. There was only a hall boy there, asleep in the
elevator, and I looked at the thing with the names on it. "Mr.
Grosvenor" was on the fourth floor.

     I wakened the boy, and he yawned and took me to the fourth
floor. My hands were stiff with nervousness by that time, but
the boy was half asleep, and evadently he took me for some one
who belonged there, for he said "Goodnight" to me, and went on
down. There was a square landing with two doors, and "Grosvenor"
was on one. I tried it gently. It was unlocked.

     "_Facilus descensus in Avernu_."

     I am not defending myself. What I did was the result of
desparation. But I cannot even write of my sensations as I
stepped through that fatal portal, without a sinking of the
heart. I had, however, had suficient forsight to prepare an
alabi. In case there was some one present in the apartment I
intended to tell a falshood, I regret to confess, and to say
that I had got off at the wrong floor.

     There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a
shaded electric lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a
sitting room.

     There was a small light burning there, and the remains of
a wood fire in the fireplace. There was no Cabinet however.

     Evervthing was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire
and warmed my hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was
strangly calm. I took off mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so
I would be free to work, and I then looked around the room.
There were a number of photographs of rather smart looking
girls, and I curled my lip scornfully. He might have fooled them
but he could not decieve me. And it added to my bitterness to
think that at that moment the villain was dancing--and flirting
probably--while I was driven to actual theft to secure the
Letter that placed me in his power.

     When I had stopped shivering I went to his desk. There were
a lot of letters on the top, all addressed to him as Grosvenor.
It struck me suddenly as strange that if he was only visiting,
under an assumed name, in order to see me, that so many people
should be writing to him as Mr. Grosvenor. And it did not look
like the room of a man who was visiting, unless he took a
freight car with him on his travels.

     _There was a mystery_. All at once I knew it.

     My letter was not on the desk, so I opened the top drawer.
It seemed to be full of bills, and so was the one below it. I
had just started on the third drawer, when a terrable thing
happened.

     "Hello!" said some one behind me.

     I turned my head slowly, and my heart stopped.

     _The porteres into the passage had opened, and a Gentleman
in his evening clothes was standing there_.

     "Just sit still, please," he said, in a perfectly cold
voice. And he turned and locked the door into the hall. I was
absolutely unable to speak. I tried once, but my tongue hit the
roof of my mouth like the clapper of a bell.

     "Now," he said, when he had turned around. "I wish you
would tell me some good reason why I should not hand you over to
the Police."

     "Oh, please don't!" I said.

     "That's eloquent. But not a reason. I'll sit down and give
you a little time. I take it, you did not expect to find me
here."

     "I'm in the wrong apartment. That's all," I said. "Maybe
you'll think that's an excuse and not a reason. I can't help it
if you do."

     "Well," he said, "that explains some things. It's pretty
well known, I fancy, that I have little worth stealing, except
my good name."

     "I was not stealing," I replied in a sulky manner.

     "I beg your pardon," he said. "It _is_ an ugly word. We
will strike it from the record. Would you mind telling me whose
apartment you intended to--er--investigate? If this is the wrong
one, you know."

     "I was looking for a Letter."

     "Letters, letters!" he said. "When will you women learn not
to write letters. Although"--he looked at me closely--"you look
rather young for that sort of thing." He sighed. "It's born in
you, I daresay," he said.

     Well, for all his patronizing ways, he was not very old
himself.

     "Of course," he said, "if you are telling the truth--and it
sounds fishy, I must say--it's hardly a Police matter, is it?
It's rather one for diplomasy. But can you prove what you say?"

     "My word should be suficient," I replied stiffly. "How do
I know that _you_ belong here?"

     "Well, you don't, as a matter of fact. Suppose you take my
word for that, and I agree to beleive what you say about the
wrong apartment, Even then it's rather unusual. I find a pale
and determined looking young lady going through my desk in a
business-like manner. She says she has come for a Letter. Now
the question is, is there a Letter? If so, what Letter?"

     "It is a love letter," I said.

     "Don't blush over such a confession," he said. "If it is
true, be proud of it. Love is a wonderful thing. Never be
ashamed of being in love, my child."

     "I am not in love," I cried with bitter furey.

     "Ah! Then it is not _your_ letter!"

     "I wrote it."

     "But to simulate a passion that does not exist--that is
sackrilege. It is----"

     "Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't
bear it. If you are going to arrest me, get it over."

     "I'd rather _not_ arrest you, if we can find a way out. You
look so young, so new to Crime! Even your excuse for being here
is so naive, that I--won't you tell me why you wrote a love
letter, if you are not in love? And whom you sent it to? That's
important, you see, as it bears on the case. I intend," he said,
"to be judgdicial, unimpassioned, and quite fair."

     "I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather
cheered, "but it was not intended for any one, Do you see? It
was just a love letter."

     "Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after
that?"

     "Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way
about it. So I made up a name from some malted milk tablets----"

     "Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered.

     "Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I
explained, "Hannah--that's mother's maid, you know--brought in
some hot milk and some malted milk tablets, and I took the name
from them."

     "Look here," he said, "I'm unpredjudiced and quite calm,
but isn't the `mother's maid' rather piling it on?"

     "Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and
the tablets, I should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that
so far it is clear to the dullest mind."

     "Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You
named the letter for your mother's maid--I mean for the malted
milk. Although you have not yet stated the name you chose; I
never heard of any one named Milk, and as to the other, while I
have known some rather thoroughly malted people--however, let
that go."

     "Valentine's tablets," I said. "Of Course, you understand,"
I said, bending forward, "there was no such Person. I made him
up. The Harold was made up too--Harold Valentine."

     "I see. Not clearly, perhaps, but I have a gleam of
intellagence."

     "But, after all, there was such a person. That's clear,
isn't it? And now he considers that we are engaged, and--and he
insists on marrying me."

     "That," he said, "is realy easy to understand. I don't
blame him at all. He is clearly a person of diszernment."

     "Of course," I said bitterly, "you would be on _his_ side.
Every one is."

     "But the point is this," he went on. "If you made him up
out of the whole cloth, as it were, and there was no such
Person, how can there be such a Person? I am merely asking to
get it all clear in my head. It sounds so reasonable when you
say it, but there seems to be something left out."

     "I don't know how he can be, but he is," I said,
hopelessly. "And he is exactly like his picture."

     "Well, that's not unusual, you know."

     "It is in this case. Because I bought the picture in a
shop, and just pretended it was him. (He?) And it _was_."

     He got up and paced the floor.

     "It's a very strange case," he said. "Do you mind if I
light a cigarette? It helps to clear my brain. What was the name
you gave him?"

     "Harold Valentine. But he is here under another name,
because of my Familey. They think I am a mere child, you see,
and so of course he took a _nom de plume_."

     "A _nom de plume_? Oh I see! What is it?"

     "Grosvenor," I said. "The same as yours."

     "There's another Grosvenor in the building, That's where
the trouble came in, I suppose, Now let me get this straight.
You wrote a letter, and somehow or other he got it, and now you
want it back. Stripped of the things that baffle my
intellagence, that's it, isn't it?"

     I rose in excitement.

     "Then, if he lives in the building, the letter is probably
here. Why can't you go and get it for me?"

     "Very neat! And let you slip away while I am gone?"

     I saw that he was still uncertain that I was telling him
the truth. It was maddening. And only the Letter itself could
convince him.

     "Oh, please try to get it," I cried, almost weeping. "You
can lock me in here, if you are afraid I will run away. And he
is out. I know he is. He is at the Club ball."

     "Naturaly," he said "the fact that you are asking me to
compound a felony, commit larceny, and be an accessery after the
fact does not trouble you. As I told you before, all I have left
is my good name, and now----!"

     "Please!" I said.

     He stared down at me.

     "Certainly," he said. "Asked in that tone, Murder would be
one of the easiest things I do. But I shall lock you in."

     "Very well," I said meekly. And after I had described
it--the Letter--to him he went out.

     I had won, but my triumph was but sackcloth and ashes in my
mouth. I had won, but at what a cost! Ah, how I wished that I
might live again the past few days! That I might never have
started on my Path of Deception! Or that, since my intentions at
the start had been so inocent, I had taken another photograph at
the shop, which I had fancied considerably but had heartlessly
rejected because of no mustache.

     He was gone for a long time, and I sat and palpatated. For
what if H. had returned early and found him and called in the
Police?

     But the latter had not occurred, for at ten minutes after
one he came back, eutering by the window from a fire-escape, and
much streaked with dirt.

     "Narrow escape, dear child!" he observed, locking the
window and drawing the shade. "Just as I got it,
your--er--gentleman friend returned and fitted his key in the
lock. I am not at all sure," he said, wiping his hands with his
handkerchief, "that he will not regard the open window as a
suspicious circumstance. He may be of a low turn of mind.
However, all's well that ends here in this room. Here it is."

     I took it, and my heart gave a great leap of joy. I was
saved.

     "Now," he said, "we'll order a taxicab and get you home.
And while it is coming suppose you tell me the thing over again.
It's not as clear to me as it ought to be, even now."

     So then I told him--about not being out yet, and Sis having
flowers sent her, and her room done over, and never getting to
bed until dawn. And that they treated me like a mere Child,
which was the reason for everything, and about the Poem, which
he considered quite good. And then about the Letter.

     "I get the whole thing a bit clearer now," he said. "Of
course, it is still cloudy in places. The making up somebody to
write to is understandable, under the circumstances. But it is
odd to have had the very Person materialise, so to speak. It
makes me wonder--well, how about burning the Letter, now we've
got it? It would be better, I think. The way things have been
going with you, if we don't destroy it, it is likely to walk off
into somebody else's pocket and cause more trouble."

     So we burned it, and then the telephone rang and said the
taxi was there.

     "I'll get my coat and be ready in a jiffey," he said, "and
maybe we can smuggle you into the house and no one the wiser.
We'll try anyhow."

     He went into the other room and I sat by the fire and
thought. You remember that when I was planning Harold Valentine,
I had imagined him with a small, dark mustache, and deep,
passionate eyes? Well, this Mr. Grosvenor had both, or rather,
all three. And he had the loveliest smile, with no dimple. He
was, I felt, exactly the sort of man I could die for.

     It was too tradgic that, with all the world to choose from,
I had not taken him instead of H.

     We walked downstairs, so as not to give the elevator boy a
chance to talk, he said. But he was asleep again, and we got to
the street and to the taxicab without being seen.

     Oh, I was very cheerful. When I think of it--but I might
have known, all along. Nothing went right with me that week.

     Just before we got to the house he said:

     "Goodnight and goodbye, little Barbara. I'll never forget
you and this evening. And save me a dance at your coming-out
party. I'll be there."

     I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it. It was
all perfectly thrilling. And then we drew up in front of the
house and he helped me out, and my entire Familey had just got
out of the motor and was lined up on the pavment staring at us!

     "All right, are you?" he said, as coolly as if they had not
been anywhere in sight. "Well, good night and good luck!" And he
got into the taxicab and drove away, leaving me in the hands of
the Enemy.

     The next morning I was sent back to school. They never gave
me a chance to explain, for mother went into hysterics, after
accusing me of having men dangling around waiting at every
corner. They had to have a doctor, and things were awful.

     The only person who said anything was Sis. She came to my
room that night when I was in bed, and stood looking down at me.
She was very angry, but there was a sort of awe in her eyes.

     "My hat's off to you, Barbara," she said. "Where in the
world do you pick them all up? Things must have changed at
school since I was there."

     "I'm sick to death of the Other Sex," I replied languidley.
"It's no punishment to send me away. I need a little piece and
quiet." And I did.

CONCLUSION:

     All this holaday week, while the girls are away, I have
been writing this Theme, for Literature class. To-day is New
Years and I am putting in the finishing touches. I intend to
have it tiped in the village and to send a copy to father, who
I think will understand, and another copy, but with a few lines
cut, to Mr. Grosvenor. The nice one. There were some things he
did not quite understand, and this will explain.

     I shall also send a copy to Carter Brooks, who came out
handsomly with an apoligy this morning in a letter and a ten
pound box of Candy.

     His letter explains everything. H. is a real person and did
not come out of a Cabinet. Carter recognized the photograph as
being one of a Mr. Grosvenor he went to college with, who had
gone on the stage and was playing in a stock company at home.
Only they were not playing Xmas week, as business, he says, is
rotten then. When he saw me writing the letter he felt that it
was all a bluff, especialy as he had seen me sending myself the
violets at the florists.

     So he got Mr. Grosvenor, the blonde one, to pretend he was
Harold Valentine. Only things slipped up. I quote from Carter's
letter:

     "He's a bully chap, Bab, and he went into it for a lark,
roses and poems and all. But when he saw that you took it rather
hard, he felt it wasn't square. He went to your father to
explain and apologized, but your father seemed to think you
needed a lesson. He's a pretty good Sport, your father. And he
said to let it go on for a day or two. A little worry wouldn't
hurt you."

     However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one's
daughter perfectly wreched and do nothing to help. And more than
that, to willfully permit one's child to suffer, and enjoy it.

     But it was father, after all, who got the Jolt, I think,
when he saw me get out of the taxicab.

     Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry
will not hurt him either.

     I will not send him his copy for a week.

     Perhaps, after all, I will give him somthing to worry about
eventually. For I have recieved a box of roses, with no card,
but a pen and ink drawing of a Gentleman in evening clothes
crawling onto a fire-escape through an open window. He has
dropped his Heart, and it is two floors below.

     My narative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close
with a few reflections drawin from my own sad and tradgic
Experience. I trust the Girls of this School will ponder and
reflect.

     Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and
without Warning, and everything seems to be going all right, and
No Rocks ahead. When suddenly the Breakers loom up, and your
frail Vessel sinks, with you on board, and maybe your dear Ones,
dragged down with you.

            _Oh, what a tangeled Web we wieve_,

            _When first we practice to decieve_.

                                     _Sir Walter Scott_.

CHAPTER II

THEME: THE CELEBRITY

WE have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true
and varacious account of a meeting with any Celebrity we
happened to meet during the summer. If no Celebrity, any
interesting character would do, excepting one's own Familey.

     But as one's own Familey is neither celebrated nor
interesting, there is no temptation to write about it.

     As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen
him as my Subject.

     Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at
Woodbury, N. J. Attended public and High Schools, and in 1910
graduated from Princeton University.

     Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her
Soul. Followed this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce.

     Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender,
and wears a very small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six
years of age, his hair on close inspection reveals here and
there a Silver Thread. His teeth are good, and his eyes amber,
with small flecks of brown in them. He has been vacinated twice.

     It has alwavs been one of my chief ambitions to meet a
Celebrity. On one or two occasions we have had them at school,
but they never sit at the Junior's table. Also, they are seldom
connected with either the Drama or The Movies (a slang term but
aparently taking a place in our Literature).

     It was my intention, on being given this subject for my
midsummer theme, to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady Author who
has a cottage across the bay from ours, and to ask the privelege
of sitting at her feet for a few hours, basking in the sunshine
of her presence, and learning from her own lips her favorite
Flower, her favorite Poem and the favorite child of her Brain.

            _Of all those arts in which the wise excel_,

            _Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well_.

                                    _Duke of Buckingham_

     I had meant to write my Theme on her, but I learned in time
that she was forty years of age. Her work is therefore done. She
has passed her active years, and I consider that it is not the
past of American Letters which is at stake, but the future.
Besides, I was more interested in the Drama than in Literature.

     Posibly it is owing to the fact that the girls think I
resemhle Julia Marlowe, that from my earliest years my mind has
been turned toward the Stage. I am very determined and fixed in
my ways, and with me to decide to do a thing is to decide to do
it. I am not of a romantic Nature, however, and as I learned of
the dangers of the theater, I drew back. Even a strong nature,
such as mine is, on occassions, can be influenced. I therefore
decided to change my plans, and to write Plays instead of acting
in them.

     At first I meant to write Comedies, but as I realized the
graveity of life, and its bitterness and disapointments, I
turned naturaly to Tradgedy. Surely, as dear Shakspeare says:

            _The world is a stage_

            _Where every man must play a part_,

            _And mine a sad one_.

     This explains my sinsere interest in Mr. Beecher. His Works
were all realistic and sad. I remember that I saw the first one
three years ago, when a mere Child, and became violently ill
from crying and had to be taken home.

     The school will recall that last year I wrote a Play,
patterned on The Divorce, and that only a certain narowness of
view on the part of the faculty prevented it being the Class
Play. If I may be permited to express an opinion, we of the
class of 1917 are not children, and should not be treated as
such.

     Encouraged by the Aplause of my class-mates, and feeling
that I was of a more serious turn of mind than most of them, who
seem to think of pleasure only, I decided to write a play during
the summer. I would thus be improving my Vacation hours, and, I
considered, keeping out of mischeif. It was pure idleness which
had caused my Trouble during the last Christmas holidays. How
true it is that the Devil finds work for idle Hands!

     With a Play and this Theme I beleived that the Devil would
give me up as a totle loss, and go elsewhere.

     How little we can read the Future!

     I now proceed to an account of my meeting and acquaintence
with Mr. Beecher. It is my intention to conceal nothing. I can
only comfort myself with the thought that my Motives were
inocent, and that I was obeying orders and secureing material
for a theme. I consider that the atitude of my Familey is wrong
and cruel, and that my sister Leila, being only 2O months older,
although out in Society, has no need to write me the sort of
letters she has been writing. Twenty months is twenty months,
and not two years, although she seems to think it is.

     I returned home full of happy plans for my vacation. When
I look back it seems strange that the gay and inocent young girl
of the train can have heen I. So much that is tradgic has since
happened. If I had not had a cinder in my eye things would have
been diferent. But why repine? Fate frequently hangs thus on a
single hair--an eye-lash, as one may say.

     Father met me at the train. I had got the aformentioned
cinder in my eye, and a very nice young man had taken it out for
me. I still cannot see what harm there was in our chating
together after that, especialy as we said nothing to object to.
But father looked very disagreeable about it, and the young man
went away in a hurry. But it started us off wrong, although I
got him--father--to promise not to tell mother.

     "I do wish you would be more careful, Bab," he said with a
sort of sigh.

     "Careful!" I said. "Then it's not doing Things, but being
found out, that matters!"

     "Careful in your conduct, Bab."

     "He was a beautiful young man, father," I observed, sliping
my arm through his.

     "Barbara, Barbara! Your poor mother----"

     "Now look here, father" I said. "If it was mother who was
interested in him it might be troublesome. But it is only me.
And I warn you, here and now, that I expect to be thrilled at
the sight of a Nice Young Man right along. It goes up my back
and out the roots of my hair."

     Well, my father is a real Person, so he told me to talk
sense, and gave me twenty dollars, and agreed to say nothing
about the young man to mother, if I would root for Canada
against the Adirondacks for the summer, because of the Fishing.

     Mother was waiting in the hall for me, but she held me off
with both hands.

     "Not until you have bathed and changed your clothing,
Barbara," she said. "I have never had it."

     She meant the whooping cough. The school will recall the
epademic which ravaged us last June, and changed us from a
peaceful institution to what sounded like a dog show.

     Well, I got the same old room, not much fixed up, but they
had put up diferent curtains anyhow, thank goodness. I had been
hinting all spring for new Furnature, but my Familey does not
take a hint unless it is cloroformed first, and I found the same
old stuff there.

     They beleive in waiting until a girl makes her Debut before
giving her anything but the necessarys of life.

     Sis was off for a week-end, but Hannah was there, and I
kissed her. Not that I'm so fond of her, but I had to kiss
sombody.

     "Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!"

     That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any
longer, but they all talk to me as if I were but six years old,
and small for my age.

     "I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignaty." At
least, almost. But I see I still draw the nursery."

     Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said:
"I tried to get you the Blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said
she needed it for house Parties."

     "Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about
Furnature. I have other things to think about, Hannah; I want
the school room Desk up here."

     "Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping.

     "I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and
paper, and a good Lamp. Let them keep the Blue room, Hannah, for
their selfish purposes. I shall be happy in my work. I need
nothing more."

     "Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?"

     "A Play."

     "Listen to the child! A Play!"

     I sat on the edge of the bed.

     "Listen, Hannah," I said. "It is not what is outside of us
that matters. It is what is inside. It is what we are, not what
we eat, or look like, or wear. I have given up everything,
Hannah, to my Career."

     "You're young yet," said Hannah. "You used to be fond
enough of the Boys."

     Hannah has been with us for years, so she gets rather
talkey at times, and has to be sat upon.

     "I care nothing whatever for the Other Sex," I replied
hautily.

     She was opening my suitcase at the time, and I was
surveying the chamber which was to be the seen of my Literary
Life, at least for some time.

     "Now and then," I said to Hannah, "I shall read you parts
of it. Only you mustn't run and tell mother."

     "Why not?" said she, pearing into the Suitcase.

     "Because I intend to deal with Life," I said. "I shall deal
with real Things, and not the way we think them. I am young, but
I have thought a great deal. I shall minse nothing."

     "Look here, Miss Barbara," Hannah said, all at once, "what
are you doing with this whiskey Flask? And these socks? And--you
come right here, and tell me where you got the things in this
Suitcase." I stocked over to the bed, and my blood frose in my
vains. _It was not mine_.

     Words cannot fully express how I felt. While fully
convinsed that there had been a mistake, I knew not when or how.
Hannah was staring at me with cold and accusing eyes.

     "You're a very young Lady, Miss Barbara," she said, with
her eyes full of Suspicion, "to be carrying a Flask about with
you." I was as puzzled as she was, but I remained calm and to
all apearances Spartan.

     "I am young in years," I remarked. "But I have seen Life,
Hannah."

     Now I meant nothing by this at the time. But it was getting
on my nerves to be put in the infant class all the time. The
Xmas before they had done it, and I had had my revenge. Although
it had hurt me more than it hurt them, and if I gave them a
fright I gave myself a worse one. As I said at that time:

           _Oh, what a tangeled web we weive_,

           _When first we practice to decieve_.

                                    _Sir Walter Scott_.

     Hannah gave me a horrafied Glare, and dipped into the
Suitcase again. She brought up a tin box of Cigarettes, and I
thought she was going to have delerium tremens at once.

     Well, at first I thought the girls at school had played a
Trick on me, and a low down mean Trick at that. There are always
those who think it is funny to do that sort of thing, but they
are the first to squeel when anything is done to them. Once I
put a small garter Snake in a girl's muff, and it went up her
sleave, which is nothing to some of the things she had done to
me. And you would have thought the School was on fire.

     Anyhow, I said to myself that some Smarty was trying to get
me into trouble, and Hannah would run to the Familey, and they'd
never beleive me. All at once I saw all my cherished plans for
the summer gone, and me in the Country somewhere with
Mademoiselle, and walking through the pasture with a botany in
one hand and a folding Cup in the other, in case we found a
spring a cow had not stepped in. Mademoiselle was once my
Governess, but has retired to private life, except in cases of
emergency.

     I am naturaly very quick in mind. The Archibalds are all
like that, and when once we decide on a Course we stick to it
through thick and thin. But we do not lie. It is rediculous for
Hannah to say I said the cigarettes were mine. All I said was:

     "I suppose you are going to tell the Familey. You'd better
run, or you'll burst."

     "Oh, Miss Barbara, Miss Barbara!" she said." And you so
young to be so wild!"

     This was unjust, and I am one to resent injustice. I had
returned home with my mind fixed on serious Things, and now I
was being told I was wild.

     "If I tell your mother she'll have a fit," Hannah said,
evadently drawn hither and thither by emotion. "Now see here,
Miss Bab, you've just come Home, and there was trouble at your
last vacation that I'm like to remember to my dieing day. You
tell me how those things got there, like a good girl, and I'll
say nothing about them."

     I am naturaly sweet in disposition, but to call me a good
girl and remind me of last Xmas holadays was too much. My
natural firmness came to the front.

     "Certainly _not_," I said.

     "You needn't stick your lip out at me, Miss Bab, that was
only giving you a chance, and forgetting my Duty to help you,
not to mention probably losing my place when the Familey finds
out."

     "Finds out what?"

     "What you've been up to, the stage, and writing plays, and
now liquor and tobacco!"

     Now I may be at fault in the Narative that follows. But I
ask the school if this was fair treatment. I had returned to my
home full of high Ideals, only to see them crushed beneath the
heal of domestic tyranny.

     _Necessity is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of
slaves_.                                     _William Pitt_.

     How true are these immortal words.

     It was with a firm countenance but a sinking heart that I
saw Hannah leave the room. I had come home inspired with lofty
Ambition, and it had ended thus. Heart-broken, I wandered to the
bedside, and let my eyes fall on the Suitcase, the container of
all my woe.

     Well, I was surprised, all right. It was not and never had
been mine. Instead of my blue serge sailor suit and my _robe de
nuit_ and kimona etc., it contained a checked gentleman's suit,
a mussed shirt and a cap. At first I was merely astonished. Then
a sense of loss overpowered me. I suffered. I was prostrated
with grief. Not that I cared a Rap for the clothes I'd lost,
being most of them to small and patched here and there. But I
had lost the plot of my Play. My Career was gone.

     I was undone.

     It may be asked what has this Recitle to do with the
account of meeting a Celebrity. I reply that it has a great deal
to do with it. A bare recitle of a meeting may be News, but it
is not Art.

     A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion.

     This is still the Introduction.

     When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had
happened. The young man who took the Cinder out of my eye had
come to sit beside me, which I consider was merely kindness on
his part and nothing like Flirting, and he had brought his
Suitcase over, and they had got mixed up. But I knew the Familey
would call it Flirting, and not listen to a word I said.

     A madness siezed me. Now that everything is over, I realize
that it was madness. But "there is a divinity that shapes our
ends etc." It was to be. It was Karma, or Kismet, or whatever
the word is. It was written in the Book of Fate that I was to go
ahead, and wreck my life, and generaly ruin everything.

     I locked the door behind Hannah, and stood with tradgic
feet, "where the brook and river meet." What was I to do? How
hide this evadence of my (presumed) duplicaty? I was inocent,
but I looked gilty. This, as everyone knows, is worse than gilt.

     I unpacked the Suitcase as fast as I could, therfore, and
being just about destracted, I bundled the things up and put
them all together in the toy Closet, where all Sis's dolls and
mine are, mine being mostly pretty badly gone, as I was always
hard on dolls.

     How far removed were those Inocent Years when I played with
dolls!

     Well, I knew Hannah pretty well, and therfore was not
surprised when, having hidden the trowsers under a doll buggy,
I heard mother's voice at the door.

     "Let me in, Barbara," she said.

     I closed the closet door, and said: "What is it, mother?"

     "Let me in."

     So I let her in, and pretended I expected her to kiss me,
which she had not yet, on account of the whooping cough. But she
seemed to have forgotten that. Also the Kiss.

     "Barbara," she said, in the meanest voice, "how long have
you been smoking?"

     Now I must pause to explain this. Had mother aproached me
in a sweet and maternal manner, I would have been softened, and
would have told the Whole Story. But she did not. She was, as
you might say, steeming with Rage. And seeing that I was
misunderstood, I hardened. I can be as hard as adamant when
necessary.

     "What do you mean, mother?"

     "Don't anser one question with another."

     "How can I anser when I don't understand you?"

     She simply twiched with fury.

     "You--a mere Child!" she raved. "And I can hardly bring
myself to mention it--the idea of your owning a Flask, and
bringing it into this house--it is--it is----"

     Well, I was growing cold and more hauty every moment, so I
said: "I don't see why the mere mention of a Flask upsets you
so. It isn't because you aren't used to one, especialy when
traveling. And since I was a mere baby I have been acustomed to
intoxicants."

     "Barbara!" she intergected, in the most dreadful tone.

     "I mean, in the Familey," I said. "I have seen wine on our
table ever since I can remember. I knew to put salt on a claret
stain before I could talk."

     Well, you know how it is to see an Enemy on the run, and
although I regret to refer to my dear mother as an Enemy, still
at that moment she was such and no less. And she was beating it.
It was the referance to my youth that had aroused me, and I was
like a wounded lion. Besides, I knew well enough that if they
refused to see that I was practicaly grown up, if not entirely,
I would get a lot of Sis's clothes, fixed up with new ribbons.
Faded old things! I'd had them for years.

     Better to be considered a bad woman than an unformed child.

     "However, mother," I finished, "if it is any comfort to
you, I did not buy that Flask. And I am not a confirmed
alcoholic. By no means."

     "This settles it," she said, in a melancoly tone. "When I
think of the comfort Leila has been to me, and the anxiety you
have caused, I wonder where you get your--your _Deviltry_ from.
I am posatively faint."

     I was alarmed, for she did look queer, with her face all
white around the Rouge. So I reached for the Flask.

     "I'll give you a swig of this," I said. "It will pull you
around in no time."

     But she held me off feircely.

     "Never!" she said. "Never again. I shall emty the wine
cellar. There will be nothing to drink in this house from now
on. I do not know what we are coming to."

     She walked into the bathroom, and I heard her emptying the
Flask down the drain pipe. It was a very handsome Flask, silver
with gold stripes, and all at once I knew the young man would
want it back. So I said:

     "Mother, please leave the Flask here anyhow."

     "Certainly not."

     "It's not mine, mother."

     "Whose is it?"

     "It--a friend of mine loned it to me."

     "Who?"

     "I can't tell you."

     "You can't _tell_ me! Barbara, I am utterly bewildered. I
sent you away a simple child, and you return to me--what?"

     Well, we had about an hour's fight over it, and we ended in
a compromise. I gave up the Flask, and promised not to smoke and
so forth, and I was to have some new dresses and a silk Sweater,
and to be allowed to stay up until ten o'clock, and to have a
desk in my room for my work.

     "Work!" mother said. "Career! What next? Why can't you be
like Leila, and settle down to haveing a good time?"

     "Leila and I are diferent," I said loftily, for I resented
her tone. "Leila is a child of the moment. Life for her is one
grand, sweet Song. For me it is a serious matter. `Life is real,
life is earnest, and the Grave is not its goal,'" I quoted in
impasioned tones.

     (Because that is the way I feel. How can the Grave be its
goal? _There must be something beyond_. I have thought it all
out, and I beleive in a world beyond, but not in a hell. Hell,
I beleive, is the state of mind one gets into in this world as
a result of one's wicked Acts or one's wicked Thoughts, and is
in one's self.)

     As I have said, the other side of the Compromise was that
I was not to carry Flasks with me, or drink any punch at parties
if it had a stick in it, and you can generally find out by the
taste. For if it is what Carter Brooks calls "loaded" it stings
your tongue. Or if it tastes like cider it's probably Champane.
And I was not to smoke any cigarettes.

     Mother was holding out on the Sweater at that time, saying
that Sis had a perfectly good one from Miami, and why not wear
that? So I put up a strong protest about the cigarettes,
although I have never smoked but once as I think the School
knows, and that only half through, owing to getting dizzy. I
said that Sis smoked now and then, because she thought it looked
smart; but that, if I was to have a Career, I felt that the
sootheing influence of tobaco would help a lot.

     So I got the new Sweater, and everything looked smooth
again, and mother kissed me on the way out, and said she had not
meant to be harsch, but that my great uncle Putnam had been a
notorious drunkard, and I looked like him, although of a more
refined tipe.

     There was a dreadful row that night, however, when father
came home. We were all dressed for dinner, and waiting in the
drawing room, and Leila was complaining about me, as usual.

     "She looks older than I do now, mother," she said. "If she
goes to the seashore with us I'll have her always taging at my
heals. I don't see why I can't have my first summer in peace."
Oh, yes, we were going to the shore, after all. Sis wanted it,
and everybody does what she wants, regardless of what they
prefer, even Fishing.

     "First summer!" I exclaimed. "One would think you were a
teething baby!"

     "I was speaking to mother, Barbara. Everyone knows that a
Debutante only has one year nowadays, and if she doesn't go off
in that year she's swept away by the flood of new Girls the next
fall. We might as well be frank. And while Barbara's not a
beauty, as soon as the bones in her neck get a little flesh on
them she won't be hopeless, and she has a flipant manner that
Men like."

     "I intend to keep Barbara under my eyes this summer,"
mother said firmly. "After last Xmas's happenings, and our
Discovery today, I shall keep her with me. She need not,
however, interfere with you, Leila. Her Hours are mostly
diferent, and I will see that her friends are the younger boys."

     I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well she had in mind
Eddie Perkins and Willie Graham, and a lot of other little kids
that hang around the fruit Punch at parties, and throw the peas
from the Croquettes at each other when the footmen are not near,
and pretend they are allowed to smoke, but have sworn off for
the summer.

     I was naturaly indignant at Sis's words, which were not
filial, to my mind, but I replied as sweetly as possable:

     "I shall not be in your way, Leila. I ask nothing but Food
and Shelter, and that perhaps not for long."

     "Why? Do you intend to die?" she demanded.

     "I intend to work," I said. "It's more interesting than
dieing, and will be a novelty in this House."

     Father came in just then, and he said:

     "I'll not wait to dress, Clara. Hello, children. I'll just
change my coller while you ring for the Cocktails."

     Mother got up and faced him with Magesty.

     "We are not going to have, any" she said.

     "Any what?" said father from the doorway.

     "I have had some fruit juice prepared with a dash of
bitters. It is quite nice. And I'll ask you, James, not to
explode before the servants. I will explain later."

     Father has a very nice disposition but I could see that
mother's manner got on his Nerves, as it got on mine. Anyhow
there was a terific fuss, with Sis playing the Piano so that the
servants would not hear, and in the end father had a Cocktail.
Mother waited until he had had it, and was quieter, and then she
told him about me, and my having a Flask in my Suitcase. Of
course I could have explained, but if they persisted in
mis-understanding me, why not let them do so, and be miserable?

     "It's a very strange thing, Bab," he said, looking at me,
"that everything in this House is quiet until you come home, and
then we get as lively as kittens in a frying pan. We'll have to
marry you off pretty soon, to save our piece of mind."

     "James!" said my mother. "Remember last winter, please."

     There was no Claret or anything with dinner, and father
ordered mineral water, and criticised the food, and fussed about
Sis's dressmaker's bill. And the second man gave notice
immediately after we left the dining room. When mother reported
that, as we were having coffee in the drawing room, father said:

     "Humph! Well, what can you expect? Those fellows have been
getting the best half of a bottle of Claret every night since
they've been here, and now it's cut off. Damed if I wouldn't
like to leave myself."

     From that time on I knew that I was watched. It made little
or no diference to me. I had my Work, and it filled my life.
There were times when my Soul was so filled with joy that I
could hardly bare it. I had one act done in two days. I wrote
out the Love seens in full, because I wanted to be sure of what
they would say to each other. How I thrilled as each marvelous
burst of Fantacy flowed from my pen! But the dialogue of less
interesting parts I left for the actors to fill in themselves.
I consider this the best way, as it gives them a chance to be
original, and not to have to say the same thing over and over.

     Jane Raleigh came over to see me the day after I came home,
and I read her some of the Love seens. She posatively wept with
excitement.

     "Bab," she said, "if any man, no matter who, ever said
those things to me, I'd go straight into his arms. I couldn't
help it. Whose going to act in it?"

     "I think I'll have Robert Edeson, or Richard Mansfield."

     "Mansfield's dead," said Jane.

     "Honestly?"

     "Honest he is. Why don't you get some of these moveing
picture actors? They never have a chance in the Movies, only
acting and not talking."

     Well, that sounded logicle. And then I read her the place
where the cruel first husband comes back and finds her married
again and happy, and takes the Children out to drown them, only
he can't because they can swim, and they pull him in instead.
The curtain goes down on nothing but a few bubbles rising to
mark his watery Grave.

     Jane was crying.

     "It is too touching for words, Bab!" she said. "It has
broken my heart. I can just close my eyes aud see the Theater
dark, and the stage almost dark, and just those bubbles coming
up and breaking. Would you have to have a tank?"

     "I darsay," I replied dreamily. "Let the other people worry
about that. I can only give them the material, and hope that
they have intellagence enough to grasp it."

     I think Sis must have told Carter Brooks something about
the trouble I was in, for he brought me a box of Candy one
afternoon, and winked at me when mother was not looking.

     "Don't open it here," he whispered.

     So I was forced to controll my impatience, though
passionately fond of Candy. And when I got to my room later, the
box was full of cigarettes. I could have screamed. It just gave
me one more thing to hide, as if a man's suit and shirt and so
on was not suficient.

     But Carter paid more attention to me than he ever had
before, and at a tea dance sombody had at the Country Club he
took me to one side and gave me a good talking to.

     "You're being rather a bad child, aren't you?" he said.

     "Certainly not."

     "Well, not bad, but--er--naughty. Now see here, Bab, I'm
fond of you, and you're growing into a mightey pretty girl. But
your whole Social Life is at stake. For heaven's sake, at least
until you're married, cut out the cigarettes and booze."

     That cut me to the heart, but what could I say?

     Well, July came, and we had rented a house at Little
Hampton and everywhere one went one fell over an open trunk or
a barrell containing Silver or Linen.

     Mother went around with her lips moving as if in prayer,
but she was realy repeating lists, such as sowing basket, table
candles, headache tablets, black silk stockings and tennis
rackets.

     Sis got some lovely Clothes, mostly imported, but they had
a woman come in and sow for me. Hannah and she used to interupt
my most precious Moments at my desk by running a tape measure
around me, or pinning a paper pattern to me. The sowing woman
always had her mouth full of Pins, and once, owing to my
remarking that I wished I had been illagitimate, so I could go
away and live my own life, she swallowed one. It caused a grate
deal of excitement, with Hannah blaming me and giving her
vinigar to swallow to soften the pin. Well, it turned out all
right, for she kept on living, but she pretended to have sharp
pains all over her here and there, and if the pin had been as
lively as a tadpole and wriggled from spot to spot, it could not
have hurt in so many Places.

     Of course they blamed me, and I shut myself up more and
more in my Sanctuery. There I lived with the creatures of my
dreams, and forgot for a while that I was only a Sub-Deb, and
that Leila's last year's tennis clothes were being fixed over
for me.

     But how true what dear Shakspeare says:

                                               _dreams_,

            _Which are the children of an idle brain_.

            _Begot of nothing but vain fantasy_.

     I loved my dreams, but alas, they were not enough. After a
tortured hour or two at my desk, living in myself the agonies of
my characters, suffering the pangs of the wife with two husbands
and both living, struggling in the water with the children,
fruit of the first union, dying with number two and blowing my
last Bubbles heavenward--after all these emotions, I was done
out.

     Jane came in one day and found me prostrate on my couch,
with a light of sufering in my eyes.

     "Dearest!" cried Jane, and gliding to my side, fell on her
knees.

     "Jane!"

     "What is it? You are ill?"

     I could hardly more than whisper. In a low tone I said:

     "He is dead."

     "Dearest!"

     "Drowned!"

     At first she thought I meant a member of my Familey. But
when she understood she looked serious.

     "You are too intence, Bab," she said solemly. "You suffer
too much. You are wearing yourself out."

     "There is no other way," I replied in broken tones.

     Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she
turned to me.

     "Others don't do it."

     "I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed
firmly. But she had roused me from my apathy, and I went into
Sis's room, returning with a box of candy some one had sent her.
"I must feel, Jane, or I cannot write."

     "Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try
Comedy? It pays well."

     "Oh--_money_!" I said, in a disgusted tone.

     "Your _forte_, of course, is Love," she said. "Probably
that's because you've had so much experience." Owing to certain
reasons it is generaly supposed that I have experienced the
gentle Passion. But not so, alas! "Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I
have been your friend for a long time. I have never betrayed
you. You can trust me with your Life. Why don't you tell me?"

     "Tell you what?"

     "Somthing has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who
is happy and has not a tradgic story stays at home shut up at a
messy desk when everyone is out at the Club playing tennis.
Don't talk to me about a Career. A girl's Career is a man and
nothing else. And especialy after last winter, Bab. Is--is it
the same one?"

     Here I made my fatal error. I should have said at once that
there was no one, just as there had been no one last Winter. But
she looked so intence, sitting there, and after all, why should
I not have an amorus experience? I am not ugly, and can dance
well, although inclined to lead because of dansing with other
girls all winter at school. So I lay back on my pillow and
stared at the ceiling.

     "No. It is not the same man."

     "What is he like? Bab, I'm so excited I can't sit still."

     "It--it hurts to talk about him," I observed faintly.

     Now I intended to let it go at that, and should have, had
not Jane kept on asking Questions. Because I had had a good
lesson the winter before, and did not intend to decieve again.
And this I will say--I realy told Jane Raleigh nothing. She
jumped to her own conclusions. And as for her people saying she
cannot chum with me any more, I will only say this: If Jane
Raleigh smokes she did not learn it from me.

     Well, I had gone as far as I meant to. I was not realy in
love with anyone, although I liked Carter Brooks, and would
posibly have loved him with all the depth of my Nature if Sis
had not kept an eye on me most of the time. However----

     Jane seemed to be expecting somthing, and I tried to think
of some way to satisfy her and not make any trouble. And then I
thought of the Suitcase. So I locked the door and made her
promise not to tell, and got the whole thing out of the Toy
Closet.

     "Wha--what is it?" asked Jane.

     I said nothing, but opened it all up. The Flask was gone,
but the rest was there, and Carter's box too. Jane leaned down
and lifted the trowsers. and poked around somewhat. Then she
straitened and said:

     "You have run away and got married, Bab."

     "Jane!"

     She looked at me peircingly.

     "Don't lie to me," she said accusingly. "Or else what are
you doing with a man's whole Outfit, including his dirty coller?
Bab, I just can't bare it."

     Well, I saw that I had gone to far, and was about to tell
Jane the truth when I heard the sowing Woman in the hall. I had
all I could do to get the things put away, and with Jane looking
like death I had to stand there and be fitted for one of Sis's
chiffon frocks, with the low neck filled in with net.

     "You must remember, Miss Bab," said the human Pin cushon,
"that you are still a very young girl, and not out yet."

     Jane got up off the bed suddenly.

     "I--I guess I'll go, Bab," she said. "I don't feel very
well."

     As she went out she stopped in the Doorway and crossed her
Heart, meaning that she would die before she would tell
anything. But I was not comfortable. It is not a pleasant
thought that your best friend considers you married and gone
beyond recall, when in truth you are not, or even thinking about
it, except in idle moments.

     The seen now changes. Life is nothing but such changes. No
sooner do we alight on one Branch, and begin to sip the honey
from it, but we are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to
the Mountains or to the Sea-shore, and there left to make new
friends and find new methods of Enjoyment.

     The flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. For
on my otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that
strange Suitcase. Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left
to pack my belongings myself, and thus for a time my gilty
secret was safe. I put my things in on top of the masculine
articles, not daring to leave any of them in the closet, owing
to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return in the
fall.

     On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis
opening my Suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a
soiled gentleman's coller. She gave me a very peircing Glance,
but said nothing and at the next opportunity I threw it out of
a window, concealed in a newspaper.

     We now approach the Catastrofe. My book on playwriting
divides plays into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement
and Catastrofe. And so one may devide life. In my case the
Cinder proved the Introduction, as there was none other. I
consider that the Suitcase was the Development, my showing it to
Jane Raleigh was the Crisis, and the Denouement or Catastrofe
occured later on.

     Let us then procede to the Catastrofe.

     Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her Familey
was coming the next day. And instead of Flowers, she put a small
bundel into my hands. "Keep it hiden, Bab," she said, "and tear
up the card."

     I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a
wash cloth, with a pink edge. "For your linen Chest," the card
said, "and I'm doing a bath towle to match."

     I tore up the Card, but I put the wash cloth with the other
things I was trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a
Gift away. But I hoped, as I seemed to be getting more things to
conceal all the time, that she would make me a small bath towle,
and not the sort as big as a bed spread.

     Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long
talk while mother and Sis made out lists for Dinners and so
forth.

     "Look here, Bab," he said, "somthing's wrong with you. I
seem to have lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of
tear-y young person I don't recognize."

     "I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke
him, but ye gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer
a Child?

     "Somtimes I think you are not very happy with us."

     "Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?"

     He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he
put his arms around me and was quite afectionate.

     "What a queer little rat it is!" he said.

     I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his
afection and good qualities, did not understand and never would
understand. My Heart was full of a longing to be understood. I
wanted to tell him my yearnings for better things, my
aspirations to make my life a great and glorious thing. _And he
did not understand_.

     He gave me five dollars instead. Think of the Tradgedy of
it!

     As we went along, and he pulled my ear and finaly went
asleep with a hand on my shoulder, the bareness of my Life came
to me. I shook with sobs. And outside somewhere Sis and mother
made Dinner lists. Then and there I made up my mind to work hard
and acheive, to become great and powerful, to write things that
would ring the Hearts of men--and women, to, of course--and to
come back to them some day, famous and beautiful, and when they
sued for my love, to be kind and hauty, but cold. I felt that I
would always be cold, although gracious.

     I decided then to be a writer of plays first, and then
later on to act in them. I would thus be able to say what came
into my head, as it was my own play. Also to arrange the seens
so as to wear a variety of gowns, including evening things. I
spent the rest of the afternoon manacuring my nails in our state
room.

     Well, we got there at last. It was a large house, but
everything was to thin about it. The School will understand
this, the same being the condition of the new Freshman
dormitory. The walls were to thin, and so were the floors. The
Doors shivered in the wind, and palpatated if you slamed them.
Also you could hear every Sound everywhere.

     I looked around me in dispair. Where, oh where, was I to
find my cherished solatude? Where?

     On account of Hannah hating a new place, and considering
the house an insult to the Servants, especialy only one bathroom
for the lot of them, she let me unpack alone, and so far I was
safe. But where was I to work? Fate settled that for me however.

            _There is no armour against fate_;

            _Death lays his icy hand on Kings_.

                                  _J. Shirley; Dirge_.

     Previously, however, mother and I had had a talk. She
sailed into my room one evening, dressed for dinner, and found
me in my _robe de nuit_, curled up in the window seat admiring
the view of the ocean.

     "Well!" she said. "Is this the way you intend going to
dinner?"

     "I do not care for any dinner," I replied. Then, seeing she
did not understand, I said coldly. "How can I care for food,
mother, when the Sea looks like a dying ople?"

     "Dying pussycat!" mother said, in a very nasty way. "I
don't know what has come over you, Barbara. You used to be a
normle Child, and there was some accounting for what you were
going to do. But now! Take off that nightgown, and I'll have
Tanney hold off dinner for half an hour."

     Tanney was the butler who had taken Patrick's place.

     "If you insist," I said coldly. "But I shall not eat."

     "Why not?"

     "You wouldn't understand, mother."

     "Oh, I wouldn't? Well, suppose I try," she said, and sat
down. "I am not very intellagent, but if you put it clearly I
may grasp it. Perhaps you'd better speak slowly, also."

     So, sitting there in my room, while the sea throbed in
tireless beats against the shore, while the light faded and the
stars issued, one by one, like a rash on the Face of the sky, I
told mother of my dreams. I intended, I said, to write Life as
it realy is, and not as supposed to be.

     "It may in places be, ugly" I said, "but Truth is my
banner. The Truth is never ugly, because it is real. It is, for
instance, not ugly if a man is in love with the wife of another,
if it is real love, and not the passing fansy of a moment."

     Mother opened her mouth, but did not say anything.

     "There was a time," I said, "when I longed for things that
now have no value whatever to me. I cared for clothes and even
for the attentions of the Other Sex. But that has passed away,
mother. I have now no thought but for my Career."

     I watched her face, and soon the dreadfull understanding
came to me. She, to, did not understand. My literary Aspirations
were as nothing to her!

     Oh, the bitterness of that moment. My mother, who had cared
for me as a child, and obeyed my slightest wish, no longer
understood me. And sadest of all, there was no way out. None.
Once, in my Youth, I had beleived that I was not the child of my
parents at all, but an adopted one--perhaps of rank and kept out
of my inheritance by those who had selfish motives. But now I
knew that I had no rank or Inheritance, save what I should carve
out for myself. There was no way out. None.

     Mother rose slowly, stareing at me with perfectly fixed and
glassy Eyes.

     "I am absolutely sure," she said, "that you are on the edge
of somthing. It may be tiphoid, or it may be an elopement. But
one thing is certain. You are not normle."

     With this she left me to my Thoughts. But she did not
neglect me. Sis came up after Dinner, and I saw mother's fine
hand in that. Although not hungry in the usual sense of the
word, I had begun to grow rather empty, and was nibling out of
a box of Chocolates when Sis came.

     She got very little out of me. To one with softness and
tenderness I would have told all, but Sis is not that sort. And
at last she showed her clause.

     "Don't fool yourself for a minute," she said. "This
literary pose has not fooled anybody. Either you're doing it to
apear Interesting, or you've done somthing you're scared about.
Which is it?"

     I refused to reply.

     "Because if it's the first, and you're trying to look
literary, you are going about it wrong," she said. "Real
Literary People don't go round mooning and talking about the
ople sea."

     I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up.

     "They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to
the bureau and spilling Powder all over the place. "Look at
Beecher."

     "Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my
elbows. (I have read this to one or two of the girls, and they
say there is no such thrill. But not all people act alike under
the influence of emotion, and mine is in my Arms, as stated.)

     "The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if
he does any languishing it is not by himself."

     There may be some who have for a long time had an Ideal,
but without hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning
that he is nearby, with indeed but a wall or two between, can be
calm and cool. But I am not like that. Although long supression
has taught me to disemble at times, where my Heart is concerned
I am powerless.

     For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had
scorned the Other Sex and felt that I was born cold and always
would be cold, that day I discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher
was my ideal. I had never spoken to him, nor indeed seen him,
except for his pictures. But the very mention of his name
brought a lump to my Throat.

     Feeling better imediately, I got Sis out of the room and
coaxed Hannah to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it
out of the Pantrey I was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I
was out on the stone bench at the foot of the lawn, gazing with
wrapt eyes at the sea.

     But Fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and
came over. He had but recently been put in long trowsers, and
those not his best ones but only white flannels. He was never
sure of his garters, and was always looking to see if his socks
were coming down. Well, he came over just as I was sure I saw
Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and made himself a
nusance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such as
snaping a rubber Band at me, and pulling out Hairpins.

     But I felt that I must talk to somone. So I said:

     "Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a Career, which
would it be?"

     "Why not both," he said, hiching the rubber band onto one
of his front teeth and playing on it. "Niether ought to take up
all a fellow's time. Say, listen to this! Talk about a
eukelele!"

     "A woman can never have both."

     He played a while, struming with one finger until the hand
sliped off and stung him on the lip.

     "Once," I said, "I dreamed of a Career. But I beleive
love's the most important."

     Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it
that a girl cannot speak of Love without every member of the
Other Sex present, no matter how young, thinking it is he? And
as for mother maintaining that I kissed that wreched Child, and
they saw me from the drawing-room, it is not true and never was
true. It was but one more Misunderstanding which convinced the
Familey that I was carrying on all manner of afairs.

     Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the
Perkins' cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his Nose
was bleeding--but I had not slaped him hard at all, and felt
little or no compunction--when I heard Carter coming down the
walk. He had called to see Leila, but she had gone to a beech
dance and left him alone. He never paid any attention to me when
she was around, and I recieved him cooly.

     "Hello!" he said.

     "Well?" I replied.

     "Is that the way you greet me, Bab?"

     "It's the way I would greet most any Left-over," I said. "I
eat hash at school, but I don't have to pretend to like it."

     "I came to see _you_."

     "How youthfull of you!" I replied, in stinging tones.

     He sat down on a Bench and stared at me.

     "What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're
geting to be the prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you,
you--you turn into a regular Rattlesnake."

     The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so
few kind Words had come recently. I am compeled to confess that
I wept, although I had not expected to, and indeed shed few
tears, although bitter ones.

     How could I posibly know that the chaste Salute of Eddie
Perkins and my head on Carter Brooks' shoulder were both plainly
visable against the rising moon? But this was the Case,
especialy from the house next door.

     But I digress.

     Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat.

     "Sit up here and tell me about it," he said. "I'm geting
more scared every minute. You are such an impulsive little
Beast, and you turn the fellows' heads so--look here, is Jane
Raleigh lying, or did you run away and get married to somone?"

     I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No. But
it seemed a shame to spoil Things just as they were geting
interesting. So I said, through my tears:

     "Nobody understands me. Nobody. And I'm so lonely."

     "And of course you haven't run away with anyone, have you?"

     "Not--exactly."

     "Bless you, Bab!" he said. And I might as well say that he
kissed me, because he did, although unexpectedly. Sombody just
then moved a Chair on the porch next door and coughed rather
loudly, so Carter drew a long breath and got up.

     "There's somthing about you lately, Bab, that I don't
understand," he said. "You--you're mysterious. That's the word.
In a couple of Years you'll be the real thing."

     "Come and see me then," I said in a demure manner. And he
went away.

     So I sat on my Bench and looked at the sea and dreamed. It
seemed to me that Centuries must have passed since I was a
light-hearted girl, running up and down that beech, paddling,
and so forth, with no thought of the future farther away than my
next meal.

     Once I lived to eat. Now I merely ate to live, and hardly
that. The fires of Genius must be fed, but no more.

     Sitting there, I suddenly made a discovery. The boat house
was near me, and I realize that upstairs, above the Bath-houses,
et cetera, there must be a room or two. The very thought
intriged me (a new word for interest, but coming into use, and
sounding well).

     Solatude--how I craved it for my work. And here it was, or
would be when I had got the Place fixed up. True, the next door
boat-house was close, but a boat-house is a quiet place,
generaly, and I knew that nowhere, aside from the dessert, is
there perfect Silence.

     I investagated at once, but found the place locked and the
boatman gone. However, there was a latice, and I climbed up that
and got in. I had a Fright there, as it seemed to be full of
people, but I soon saw it was only the Familey bathing suits
hung up to dry. Aside from the odor of drying things it was a
fine study, and I decided to take a small table there, and the
various tools of my Profession.

     Climbing down, however, I had a surprise. For a man was
just below, and I nearly put my foot on his shoulder in the
darkness.

     "Hello!" he said. "So it's _you_."

     I was quite speachless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his
dinner clothes and bareheaded.

     Oh flutering Heart, be still. Oh Pen, move steadily. _Oh
tempora o mores_!

     "Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the latice.

     "In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I
do you'll vanish. And I have somthing to tell you."

     I could hardly beleive my ears.

     "You see," he went on, "I think you must move that Bench."

     "Bench?"

     "You seem to be so very popular," he Said." And of course
I'm only a transient and don't matter. But some evening one of
the admirers may be on the Patten's porch, while another is with
you on the bench. And--the Moon rises beyond it."

     I was silent with horor. So that was what he thought of me.
Like all the others, he, to, did not understand. He considered
me a Flirt, when my only Thoughts were serious ones, of
imortality and so on.

     "You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to
warn you until I saw you climbing the latice. Then I knew you
were still young enough to take a friendly word of Advise."

     I got down then and stood before him. He was magnifacent.
Is there anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming
expance of dress shirt? I think not.

     But he was staring at me.

     "Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after
all. I thought you were a little girl."

     "That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm
seventeen, but I shall be a mere Child until I come out."

     "Oh!" he said.

     "One day I am a Child in the nursery," I said. "And the
next I'm grown up and ready to be sold to the highest Bider."

     "I beg your pardon, I----"

     "But I am as grown up now as I will ever be," I said. "And
indeed more so. I think a great deal now, because I have plenty
of Time. But my sister never thinks at all. She is to busy."

     "Suppose we sit on the Bench. The moon is to high to be a
menace, and besides, I am not dangerous. Now, what do you think
about?"

     "About Life, mostly. But of course there is Death, which is
beautiful but cold. And--one always thinks of Love, doesn't
one?"

     "Does one?" he asked. I could see he was much interested.
As for me, I dared not consider whom it was who sat beside me,
almost touching. That way lay madness.

     "Don't you ever," he said, "reflect on just ordinary
things, like Clothes and so forth?"

     I shruged my shoulders.

     "I don't get enough new clothes to worry about. Mostly I
think of my Work."

     "Work?"

     "I am a writer" I said in a low, ernest tone.

     "No! How--how amazing. What do you write?"

     "I'm on a play now."

     "A Comedy?"

     "No. A Tradgedy. How can I write a Comedy when a play must
always end in a catastrofe? The book says all plays end in
Crisis, Denouement and Catastrofe."

     "I can't beleive it," he said. "But, to tell you a Secret,
I never read any books about Plays."

     "We are not all gifted from berth, as you are," I observed,
not to merely please him, but because I considered it the simple
Truth.

     He pulled out his watch and looked at it in the moonlight.

     "All this reminds me," he said, "that I have promised to go
to work tonight. But this is so--er--thrilling that I guess the
work can wait. Well--now go on."

     Oh, the Joy of that night! How can I describe it? To be at
last in the company of one who understood, who--as he himself
had said in "Her Soul"--spoke my own languidge! Except for the
occasional mosquitoe, there was no sound save the turgescent sea
and his Voice.

     Often since that time I have sat and listened to
conversation. How flat it sounds to listen to father prozing
about Gold, or Sis about Clothes, or even to the young men who
come to call, and always talk about themselves.

     We were at last interupted in a strange manner. Mr. Patten
came down their walk and crossed to us, walking very fast. He
stopped right in front of us and said:

     "Look here, Reg, this is about all I can stand."

     "Oh, go away, and sing, or do somthing," said Mr. Beecher
sharply.

     "You gave me your word of Honor" said the Patten man. "I
can only remind you of that. Also of the expence I'm incuring,
and all the rest of it. I've shown all sorts of patience, but
this is the limit."

     He turned on his Heal, but came back for a last word or
two.

     "Now see here," he said, "we have everything fixed the way
you said You wanted it. And I'll give you ten minutes. That's
all."

     He stocked away, and Mr. Beecher looked at me.

     "Ten minutes of Heaven," he said, "and then perdetion with
that bunch. Look here," he said, "I--I'm awfully interested in
what you are telling me. Let's cut off up the beech and talk."

     Oh night of Nights! Oh moon of Moons!

     Our talk was strictly business. He asked me my Plot, and
although I had been warned not to do so, even to David Belasco,
I gave it to him fully. And even now, when all is over, I am not
sorry. Let him use it if he will. I can think of plenty of
Plots.

     The real tradgedy is that we met father. He had been
ordered to give up smoking, and I considered had done so, mother
feeling that I should be encouraged in leaving off cigarettes.
So when I saw the cigar I was sure it was not father. It proved
to be, however, and although he passed with nothing worse than
a Glare, I knew I was in more trouble.

     At last we reached the Bench again, and I said good night.
Our relations continued business-like to the last. He said:

     "Good night, little authoress, and let's have some more
talks."

     "I'm afraid I've board you," I said.

     "Board me!" he said. "I haven't spent such an evening for
years!"

     The Familey acted perfectly absurd about it. Seeing that
they were going to make a fuss, I refused to say with whom I had
been walking. You'd have thought I had committed a crime.

     "It has come to this, Barbara," mother said, pacing the
floor. "You cannot be trusted out of our sight. Where do you
meet all these men? If this is how things are now, what will it
be when given your Liberty?"

     Well, it is to painful to record. I was told not to leave
the place for three days, although allowed the boat-house. And
of course Sis had to chime in that she'd heard a roomer I had
run away and got married, and although of course she knew it
wasn't true, owing to no time to do so, still where there was
Smoke there was Fire.

     But I felt that their confidence in me was going, and that
night, after all were in the Land of Dreams, I took that wreched
suit of clothes and so on to the boathouse, and hid them in the
rafters upstairs.

     I come now to the strange Event of the next day, and its
sequel.

     The Patten place and ours are close together, and no other
house near. Mother had been very cool about the Pattens, owing
to nobody knowing them that we knew. Although I must say they
had the most interesting people all the time, and Sis was crazy
to call and meet some of them.

     Jane came that day to visit her aunt, and she ran down to
see me first thing.

     "Come and have a ride," she said. "I've got the Runabout,
and after that we'll bathe and have a real time."

     But I shook my head.

     "I'm a prisoner, Jane," I said.

     "Honestly! Is it the Play, or somthing else?"

     "Somthing else, Jane," I said. "I can tell you nothing
more. I am simply in trouble, as usual."

     "But why make you a prisoner, unless----" She stopped
suddenly and stared at me.

     "He has claimed you!" she said. "He is here, somwhere about
this Place, and now, having had time to think it over, you do
not Want to go to him. Don't deny it. I see it in your face. Oh,
Bab, my heart aches for you."

     It sounded so like a play that I kept it up. Alas, with
what results!

     "What else can I do, Jane?" I said.

     "You can refuse, if you do not love him. Oh Bab, I did not
say it before, thinking you loved him. But no man who wears
clothes like those could ever win my heart. At least, not
permanently."

     Well, she did most of the talking. She had finished the
bath towle, which was a large size, after all, and monogramed,
and she made me promise never to let my husband use it. When she
went away she left it with me, and I carried it out and put it
on the rafters, with the other things--I seemed to be getting
more to hide every day.

     Things went all wrong the next day. Sis was in a bad
temper, and as much as said I was flirting with Carter Brooks,
although she never intends to marry him herself, owing to his
not having money and never having asked her.

     I spent the morning in fixing up a Studio in the
boat-house, and felt better by noon. I took two boards on
trestles and made a desk, and brought a Dictionery and some pens
and ink out. I use a Dictionery because now and then I am
uncertain how to spell a word.

     Events now moved swiftly and terrably. I did not do much
work, being exhausted by my efforts to fix up the studio, and
besides, feeling that nothing much was worth while when one's
Familey did not and never would understand. At eleven o'clock
Sis and Carter and Jane and some others went in bathing from our
dock. Jane called up to me, but I pretended not to hear. They
had a good time judging by the noise, although I should think
Jane would cover her arms and neck in the water, being very
thin. Legs one can do nothing with, although I should think
stripes going around would help. But arms can have sleaves.

     However--the people next door went in to, and I thrilled to
the core when Mr. Beecher left the bath-house and went down to
the beech. What a physic! What shoulders, all brown and
muscular! And to think that, strong as they were, they wrote the
tender Love seens of his plays. Strong and tender--what
descriptive words they are! It was then that I saw he had been
vacinated twice.

     To resume. All the Pattens went in, and a new girl with
them, in a One-peace Suit. I do not deny that she was pretty. I
only say that she was not modest, and that the way she stood on
the Patten's dock and pozed for Mr. Beecher's benafit was
unecessary and well, not respectable.

     She was nothing to me, nor I to her. But I watched her
closely. I confess that I was interested in Mr. Beecher. Why
not? He was a Public Character, and entitled to respect. Nay,
even to love. But I maintain and will to my dying day, that such
love is diferent from that ordinaraly born to the Other Sex, and
a thing to be proud of.

     Well, I was seeing a drama and did not even know it. After
the rest had gone, Mr. Patten came to the door into Mr.
Beecher's room in the bath-house--they are all in a row, with
doors opening on the sand--and he had a box in his hand. He
looked around, and no one was looking except me, and he did not
see me. He looked very Feirce and Glum, and shortly after he
carried in a chair and a folding card table. I thought this was
very strange, but imagine how I felt when he came out carrying
Mr. Beecher's clothes! He brought them all, going on his tiptoes
and watching every minute. I felt like screaming.

     However, I considered that it was a practicle Joke, and I
am no spoil sport. So I sat still and waited. They staid in the
water a long time, and the girl with the Figure was always
crawling out on the dock and then diving in to show off. Leila
and the rest got sick of her actions and came in to Lunch. They
called up to me, but I said I was not hungry.

     "I don't know what's come over Bab," I heard Sis say to
Carter Brooks. "She's crazy, I think."

     "She's seventeen," he said. "That's all. They get over it
mostly, but she has it hard."

     I lothed him.

     Pretty soon the other crowd came up, and I could see every
one knew the joke but Mr. Beecher. They all scuttled into their
doorways, and Mr. Patten waited till Mr. Beecher was inside and
had thrown out the shirt of his bathing Suit. Then he locked the
door from the outside.

     There was a silence for a minute. Then Mr. Beecher said in
a terrable voice.

     "So that's the Game, is it?"

     "Now listen, Reg," Mr. Patten said, in a soothing voice.
"I've tried everything but Force, and now I'm driven to that.
I've got to have that third Act. The company's got the first two
acts well under way, and I'm getting wires about every hour.
I've got to have that script."

     "You go to Hell!" said Mr. Beecher. You could hear him
plainly through the window, high up in the wall. And although I
do not approve of an oath, there are times when it eases the
tortured Soul.

     "Now be reasonable, Reg," Mr. Patten pleaded. "I've put a
fortune in this thing, and you're lying down on the job. You
could do it in four hours if you'd put your mind to it."

     There was no anser to this. And he went on:

     "I'll send out food or anything. But nothing to drink.
There's Champane on the ice for you when you've finished,
however. And you'll find pens and ink and paper on the table."

     The anser to this was Mr. Beecher's full weight against the
door. But it held, even against the full force of his fine
physic.

     "Even if you do break it open," Mr. Patten said, "you can't
go very far the way you are. Now be a good fellow, and let's get
this thing done. It's for your good as well as mine. You'll make
a Fortune out of it."

     Then he went into his own door, and soon came out, looking
like a gentleman, unless one knew, as I did, that he was a
Whited Sepulcher.

     How long I sat there, paralized with emotion, I do not
know. Hannah came out and roused me from my Trance of grief. She
is a kindly soul, although to afraid of mother to be helpful.

     "Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's
that fruit salad that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her
to brown a bit of sweetbread for you."

     "Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a Crime being
committed in this neighborhood, and you talk to me of food."

     "Good gracious, Miss Bab!"

     "I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said
gently, "because it is only being done now, and I cannot make up
my Mind about it. But of course I do not want any food."

     As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not
understand why she burst into tears and went away.

     I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the
circumstances. But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a Police
matter, being between friends, as one may say, and yet I simply
could not bare to leave my Ideal there in that damp bath-house
without either food or, as one may say, raiment.

     About the middle of the afternoon it occurred to me to try
to find a key for the lock of the bath-house. I therfore left my
Studio and proceded to the house. I passed close by the fatal
building, but there was no sound from it.

     I found a number of trunk-keys in a drawer in the library,
and was about to escape with them, when father came in. He gave
me a long look, and said:

     "Bee still buzzing?"

     I had hoped for some understanding from him, but my Spirits
fell at this speach.

     "I am still working, father," I said, in a firm if nervous
tone. "I am not doing as good work as I would if things were
diferent, but--I am at least content, if not happy."

     He stared at me, and then came over to me.

     "Put out your tongue," he said.

     Even against this crowning infamey I was silent.

     "That's all right," he said. "Now see here, Chicken, get
into your riding togs and we'll order the horses. I don't intend
to let this play-acting upset your health."

     But I refused. "Unless, of course, you insist," I finished.
He only shook his head, however, and left the room. I felt that
I had lost my Last Friend.

     I did not try the keys myself, but instead stood off a
short distance and through them through the window. I learned
later that they struck Mr. Beecher on the head. Not knowing, of
course, that I had flung them, and that my reason was pure
Friendliness and Idealizm, he through them out again with a
violent exclamation. They fell at my feet, and lay there,
useless, regected, tradgic.

     At last I summoned courage to speak.

     "Can't I do somthing to help?" I said, in a quaking voice,
to the window.

     There was no anser, but I could hear a pen scraching on
paper.

     "I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone.

     "Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry.

     "May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my Heart! For the
scraching had ceased.

     "Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say `beloved'
because an Ideal is always beloved. The voice was beloved, but
sharp.

     "It's me."

     I heard him mutter somthing, and I think he came to the
Door.

     "Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want
to work. And don't come near here again until seven o'clock."

     "Very well," I said faintly.

     "And then come without fail," he said.

     "Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was!
Strong but tender!

     "And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that,
you shoot them for me, will you?"

     "_Shoot_ them?"

     "Drive them off, or use a Bean-shooter. Anything. But don't
yell at them. It distracts me."

     It was a Sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and
his _magnum opum_. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house,
and took up my vigel.

     It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I
knew it was Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and
limps when unobserved. Although having the reputation of the
smallest foot of any girl in our set in the city, I prefer
Comfort and Ease, unhampered by heals--French or otherwise. No
man will ever marry a girl because she wears a small shoe, and
catches her heals in holes in the Boardwalk, and has to soak her
feet at night before she can sleep. However----

     Jane came on, and found me croutched on the doorstep, in a
lowly attatude, and holding my finger to my lips.

     She stopped and stared at me.

     "Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A Statue?"

     "Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to
be quiet and speak in Whispers. I cannot give the reason."

     "Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?"

     "It is happening now, but I cannot explain."

     "_What_ is happening?"

     "Jane," I whispered, ernestly, "you have known me a long
time and I have always been Trustworthy, have I not?"

     She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had
opened her mouth and forgot to close it.

     "Then ask No Questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It
seemed to me that Mr. Beecher through his pen at the door, and
began to pace the bath-house. Owing of course to his being in
his bare feet, I was not certain. Jane heard somthing, to, for
she clutched my arm.

     "Bab," she said, in intence tones, "if you don't explain I
shall lose my mind. I feel now that I am going to shreik."

     She looked at me searchingly.

     "Sombody is a Prisoner. That's all."

     It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for
Jane Raleigh to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to
repeat later in Public that I had told her that my lover had
come for me, and that father had locked him up to prevent my
running away with him, imuring him in the Patten's bath-house?
Certainly not.

     Just then I saw the boatman coming who looks after our
motor boat, and I tiptoed to him and asked him to go away, and
not to come back unless he had quieter boats and would not
whistel. He acted very ugly about it, I must say, but he went.

     When I came back, Jane was sitting thinking, with her
forhead all puckered.

     "What I don't understand, Bab," she said, "is, why no
noise?"

     "Because he is writing," I explained. "Although his
clothing has been taken away, he is writing. I don't think I
told you, Jane, but that is his business. He is a Writer. And if
I tell you his name you will faint with surprise."

     She looked at me searchingly.

     "Locked up--and writing, and his clothing gone! What's he
writing, Bab? His Will?"

     "He is doing his duty to the end, Jane," I said softly. "He
is writing the last Act of a Play. The Company is rehearsing the
first two Acts, and he has to get this one ready, though the
Heavens fall."

     But to my surprise, she got up and said to me, in a firm
voice:

     "Either you are crazy, Barbara Archibald, or you think I
am. You've been stuffing me for about a week, and I don't
beleive a Word of it. And you'll apologize to me or I'll never
speak to you again."

     She said this loudly, and then went away, And Mr. Beecher
said, through the door.

     "What the Devil's the row about?"

     Perhaps my nerves were going, or possably it was no
luncheon and probably no dinner. But I said, just as if he had
been an ordinary person:

     "Go on and write and get through. I can't stew on these
steps all day."

     "I thought you were an amiable Child."

     "I'm not amiable and I'm not a Child."

     "Don't spoil your pretty face with frowns."

     "It's _my_ face. And you can't see it anyhow," I replied,
venting in femanine fashion, my anger at Jane on the nearest
object.

     "Look here," he said, through the door, "you've been my
good Angel. I'm doing more work than I've done in two months,
although it was a dirty, low-down way to make me do it. You're
not going back on me now, are you?"

     Well, I was mollafied, as who would not be? So I said:

     "Well?"

     "What did Patten do with my clothes?"

     "He took them with him." He was silent, except for a
muttered word.

     "You might throw those Keys back again," he said. "Let me
know first, however. You're the most acurate Thrower I've ever
seen."

     So I through them through the window and I beleive hit the
ink bottle. But no matter. And he tried them, but none availed.

     So he gave up, and went back to Work, having saved enough
ink to finish with. But a few minutes later he called to me
again, and I moved to the Doorstep, where I sat listening, while
aparently admiring the sea. He explained that having been thus
forced, he had almost finished the last Act, and it was a
corker. And he said if he had his clothes and some money, and a
key to get out, he'd go right back to Town with it and put it in
rehearsle. And at the same time he would give the Pattens
something to worry about over night. Because, play or no play,
it was a Rotten thing to lock a man in a bath-house and take his
clothes away.

     "But of course I can't get my clothes," he said. "They'll
take cussed good care of that. And there's the Key too. We're up
against it, Little Sister."

     Although excited by his calling me thus, I retained my
faculties, and said:

     "I have a suit of Clothes you can have."

     "Thanks awfully," he said. "But from the slight
acquaintance we have had, I don't beleive they would fit me."

     "Gentleman's Clothes," I said fridgidly.

     "You have?"

     "In my Studio," I said. "I can bring them, if you like.
They look quite good, although Creased."

     "You know" he said, after a moment's silence, "I can't
quite beleive this is realy happening to me! Go and bring the
suit of clothes, and--you don't happen to have a cigar, I
suppose,?"

     "I have a large box of Cigarettes."

     "It is true," I heard him say through the door. "It is all
true. I am here, locked in. The Play is almost done. And a very
young lady on the doorstep is offering me a suit of Clothes and
Tobaco. I pinch myself. I am awake."

     Alas! Mingled with my joy at serving my Ideal there was
also greif. My idle had feet of clay. He was a slave, like the
rest of us, to his body. He required clothes and tobaco. I felt
that, before long, he might even ask for an apple, or something
to stay the pangs of hunger. This I felt I could not bare.

     Perhaps I would better pass over quickly the events of the
next hour. I got the suit and the cigarettes, and even Jane's
bath towle, and through them in to him. Also I beleive he took
a shower, as I heard the water running, At about seven o'clock
he said he had finished the play. He put on the Clothes which he
observed almost fitted him, although gayer than he usually wore,
and said that if I would give him a hair pin he thought he could
pick the Lock. But he did not succeed.

     Being now dressed, however, he drew a chair to the window
and we talked together. It seemed like a dream that I should be
there, on such intimate terms with a great Playwright, who had
just, even if under compulsion, finished a last Act, I bared my
very soul to him, such as about resembling Julia Marlowe, and no
one understanding my craveing to acheive a Place in the World of
Art. We were once interupted by Hannah looking for me for
dinner. But I hid in a bath-house, and she went away.

     What was Food to me compared with such a Conversation?

     When Hannah had disappeared, he said suddenly:

     "It's rather unusual, isn't it, your having a suit of
clothes and everything in your--er--studio?"

     But I did not explain fully, merely saving that it was a
painful story.

     At half past seven I saw mother on the veranda looking for
me, and I ducked out of sight, I was by this time very hungry,
although I did not like to mention the fact, But Mr. Beecher
made a suggestion, which was this: that the Pattens were
evadently going to let him starve until he got through work, and
that he would see them in perdetion before he would be the Butt
for their funny remarks when they freed him. He therfore tried
to escape out the window, but stuck fast, and finaly gave it up.

     At last he said:

     "Look here, you're a curious child, but a nervy one. How'd
you like to see if you can get the Key? If you do we'll go to a
hotel and have a real meal, and we can talk about your Career."

     Although quivering with Terror, I consented. How could I do
otherwise, with such a prospect? For now I began to see that all
other Emotions previously felt were as nothing to this one. I
confess, without shame, that I felt the stiring of the Tender
Passion in my breast. Ah me, that it should have died ere it had
hardly lived!

     "Where is the key?" I asked, in a wrapt but anxious tone.

     He thought a while.

     "Generaly," he said, "it hangs on a nail at the back entry.
But the chances are that Patten took it up to his room this
time, for safety, You'd know it if you saw it. It has some
buttons off sombody's batheing suit tied to it."

     Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came
stocking out, calling me in an angry tone. But shortly
afterwards I was on my way to the Patten's house, on shaking
Knees. It was by now twilight, that beautiful period of Romanse,
although the dinner hour also. Through the dusk I sped, toward
what? I knew not.

     The Pattens and the one-peace lady were at dinner, and
having a very good time, in spite of having locked a Guest in
the bath-house. Being used to servants and prowling around,
since at one time when younger I had a habit of taking things
from the pantrey, I was quickly able to see that the Key was not
in the entry. I therfore went around to the front Door and went
in, being prepared, if discovered, to say that somone was in
their bath-house and they ought to know it. But I was not heard
among their sounds of revelry, and was able to proceed upstairs,
which I did.

     But not having asked which was Mr. Patten's room, I was at
a loss and almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the
beds--much to early, also, and not allowed in the best houses
until nine-thirty, since otherwise the rooms look undressed and
informle.

     I had but Time to duck into another chamber, and from there
to a closet.

     _I remained in that closet all night_.

     I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a Woman
came into the room and closed the door. I heard her moving
around and I suddenly felt that she was going to bed, and might
get her _robe de nuit_ out of the closet. I was petrafied. But
it seems, while she really _was_ undressing at that early hour,
the maid had laid her night clothes out, and I was saved.

     Very soon a knock came to the door, and somhody came in,
like Mrs. Patten's voice and said: "You're not going to bed,
surely!"

     "I'm going to pretend to have a sick headache," said the
other Person, and I knew it was the One-peace Lady. "He's going
to come back in a frenzey, and he'll take it out on me, unless
I'm prepared."

     "Poor Reggie!" said Mrs. Patten, "To think of him locked in
there alone, and no Clothes or anything. It's too funny for
words."

     "You're not married to him."

     My heart stopped beating. Was _she_ married to him? She was
indeed. My dream was over. And the worst part of it was that for
a married man I had done without Food or exercise and now stood
in a hot closet in danger of a terrable fuss.

     "No, thank Heaven!" said Mrs. Patten. "But it was the only
way to make him work. He is a lazy dog. But don't worry. We'll
feed him before he sees you. He's always rather tractible after
he's fed."

     Were _all_ my dreams to go? Would they leave nothing to my
shattered ilusions? Alas, no.

     "Jolly him a little, to," said----can I write it?--Mrs.
Beecher. "Tell him he's the greatest thing in the World. That
will help some. He's vain, you know, awfully vain. I expect he's
written a lot of piffle."

     Had they listened they would have heard a low, dry sob,
wrung from my tortured heart. But Mrs. Beecher had started a
vibrater, and my anguished cry was lost.

     "Well," said Mrs. Patten, "Will has gone down to let him
out, I expect he'll attack him. He's got a vile Temper. I'll sit
with you till he comes back, if you don't mind. I'm feeling
nervous."

     It was indeed painful to recall the next half hour. I must
tell the truth however. They discussed us, especialy mother, who
had not called. They said that we thought we were the whole
summer Colony, although every one was afraid of mother's tongue,
and nobody would marry Leila, except Carter Brooks, and he was
poor and no prospects. And that I was an incorrigable, and
carried on somthing gastly, and was going to be put in a
convent. I became justly furious and was about to step out and
tell them a few plain Facts, when sombody hammered at the door
and then came in. It was Mr. Patten.

     "He's gone!" he said.

     "Well, he won't go far, in bathing trunks," said Mrs.
Beecher.

     "That's just it. His bathing trunks are there."

     "Well, he won't go far _without_ them!"

     "He's gone so far I can't locate him."

     I heard Mrs. Beecher get up.

     "Are you in ernest, Will?" she said. "Do you mean that he
has gone without a Stich of clothes, and can't be found?"

     Mrs. Patten gave a sort of screach.

     "You don't think--oh Will, he's so tempermental. You don't
think he's drowned himself?"

     "No such luck," said Mrs. Beecher, in a cold tone. I hated
her for it. True, he had decieved me. He was not as I had
thought him. In our to conversations he had not mentioned his
wife, leaveing me to beleive him free to love "where he listed,"
as the poet says.

     "There are a few clues," said Mr. Patten. "He got out by
means of a wire hairpin, for one thing. And he took the
manuscript with him, which he'd hardly have done if he meant to
drown himself. Or even if, as we fear, he had no Pockets. He has
smoked a lot of cigarettes out of a candy box, which I did not
supply him, and he left behind a bath towle that does not, I
think, belong to us."

     "I should think he would have worn it," said Mrs. Beecher,
in a scornfull tone.

     "Here's the bath towle," Mr. Patten went on. "You may
recognize the initials. I don't."

     "B. P. A.," said Mrs. Beecher. "Look here, don't they call
that--that fliberty-gibbet next door `Barbara'?"

     "The little devil!" said Mr. Patten, in a raging tone. "She
let him out, and of course he's done no work on the Play or
anything. I'd like to choke her."

     Nobody spoke then, and my heart beat fast and hard. I leave
it to anybody, how they'd like to be shut in a closet and
threatened with a violent Death from without. Would or would
they not ever be the same person afterwards?

     "I'll tell you what I'd do," said the Beecher woman. "I'd
climb up the back of father, next door, and tell him what his
little Daughter has done, Because I know she's mixed up in it,
towle or no towle. Reg is always sappy when they're seventeen.
And she's been looking moon-eyed at him for days."

     Well, the Pattens went away, and Mrs. Beecher manacured her
Nails,--I could hear her fileing them--and sang around and was
not much concerned, although for all she knew he was in the
briney deep, a corpse. How true it is that "the paths of glory
lead but to the grave."

     I got very tired and much hoter, and I sat down on the
floor. After what seemed like hours, Mrs. Patten came back, all
breathless, and she said:

     "The girl's gone to, Clare."

     "What girl?"

     "Next door. If you want Excitement, they've got it. The
mother is in hysterics and there's a party searching the beech
for her body, The truth is, of course, if that towle means
anything"

     "That Reg has run away with her, of course," said Mrs.
Beecher, in a resined tone. "I wish he would grow up and learn
somthing. He's becoming a nusance. And when there are so many
Interesting People to run away with, to choose that chit!"

     Yes, she said that, And in my retreat I could but sit and
listen, and of course perspire, which I did freely. Mrs. Patten
went away, after talking about the "scandle" for some time. And
I sat and thought of the beech being searched for my Body, a
thought which filled my Eyes with tears of pity for what might
have been, I still hoped Mrs. Beecher would go to bed, but she
did not. Through the key hole I could see her with a Book,
reading, and not caring at all that Mr. Beecher's body, and mine
to, might be washing about in the cruel Sea, or have eloped to
New York.

     I lothed her.

     At last I must have slept, for a bell rang, and there I was
still in the closet, and she was ansering it.

     "Arrested?" she said, "Well, I should think he'd better be,
If what you say about clothing is true.... Well, then--what's he
arrested for?... Oh, kidnaping! Well, if I'm any judge, they
ought to arrest the Archibald girl for kidnaping _him_. No,
don't bother me with it tonight. I'll try to read myself to
sleep."

     So this was Marriage! Did she flee to her unjustly acused
husband's side and comfort him? Not she. She went to bed.

     At daylight, being about smotherd, I opened the closet door
and drew a breath of fresh air. Also I looked at her, and she
was asleep, with her hair in patent wavers. Ye gods!

     The wife of Reginald Beecher thus to distort her looks at
night! I could not bare it.

     I averted my eyes, and on my tiptoes made for the Window.

     My sufferings were over. In a short time I had slid down
and was making my way through the dewey morn toward my home.
Before the sun was up, or more than starting, I had climbed to
my casement by means of a wire trellis, and put on my _robe de
nuit_. But before I settled to sleep I went to the pantrey and
there satisfied the pangs of nothing since Breakfast the day
before. All the lights seemed to be on, on the lower floor,
which I considered wastful of Tanney, the butler. But being
sleepy, gave it no further thought. And so to bed, as the great
English dairy-keeper, Pepys, had said in his dairy.

     It seemed but a few moments later that I heard a scream,
and opening my eyes, saw Leila in the doorway. She screamed
again, and mother came and stood beside her. Although very
drowsy, I saw that they still wore their dinner clothes.

     They stared as if transfixed, and then mother gave a low
moan, and said to Sis:

     "That unfortunate man has been in Jail all night."

     And Sis said: "Jane Raleigh is crazy. That's all." Then
they looked at me, and mother burst into tears. But Sis said:

     "You little imp! Don't tell me you've been in that bed all
night. _I know better_."

     I closed my eyes. They were not of the understanding sort,
and never would be.

     "If that's the way you feel I shall tell you nothing," I
said wearily.

     "_Where have you been_?" mother said, in a slow and
dreadful voice.

     Well, I saw then that a part of the Truth must be
disclosed, especialy since she has for some time considered
sending me to a convent, although without cause, and has not
done so for fear of my taking the veil. So I told her this. I
said:

     "I spent the night shut in a clothes closet, but where is
not my secret. I cannot tell you."

     "Barbara! You _must_ tell me."

     "It is not my secret alone, mother."

     She caught at the foot of the bed.

     "Who was shut with you in that closet?" she demanded in a
shaking voice. "Barbara, there is another wreched Man in all
this. It could not have been Mr. Beecher, because he has been in
the Station House all night."

     I sat up, leaning on one elbow, and looked at her ernestly.

     "Mother" I said, "you have done enough damage, interfering
with Careers--not only mine, but another's imperiled now by not
haveing a last Act. I can tell you no More, except"--here my
voice took on a deep and intence fiber--"that I have done
nothing to be ashamed of, although unconventional."

     Mother put her hands to her Face, and emited a low,
despairing cry.

     "Come," Leila said to her, as to a troubled child. "Come,
and Hannah can use the vibrater on your spine."

     So she went, but before she left she said:

     "Barbara, if you will only promise to be a good girl, and
give us a chance to live this Scandle down, I will give you
anything you ask for."

     "Mother!" Sis said, in an angry tone.

     "What can I do, Leila?" mother said. "The girl is
atractive, and probably men will always be following her and
making trouble. Think of last Winter. I know it is Bribery, but
it is better than Scandle."

     "I want nothing, mother," I said, in a low, heartstricken
tone, "save to be allowed to live my own life and to have a
Career."

     "My Heavens," mother said, "if I hear that word again, I'll
go crazy."

     So she went away, and Sis came over and looked down at me.

     "Well!" she said. "What's happened anyhow? Of course you've
been up to some Mischeif, but I don't suppose anybody will ever
know the Truth of it. I was hopeing you'd make it this time and
get married, and stop worrying us."

     "Go away, please, and let me Sleep," I said. "As to getting
married, under no circumstances did I expect to marry him. He
has a Wife already. Personally, I think she's a totle loss. She
wears patent wavers at night, and sleeps with her Mouth open.
But who am I to interfere with the marriage bond? I never have
and never will."

     But Sis only gave me a wild look and went away.

     This, dear readers and schoolmates, is the true story of my
meeting with and parting from Reginald Beecher, the playwright.
Whatever the papers may say, it is not true, except the Fact
that he was recognized by Jane Raleigh, who knew the suit he
wore, when in the act of pawning his ring to get money to escape
from his captors (_i. e._, The Pattens) with. It was the necktie
which struck her first, and also his gilty expression. As I was
missing by that time, Jane put two and two together and made an
Elopement.

     Sometimes I sit and think things over, my fingers wandering
"over the ivory keys" of the typewriter they gave me to promise
not to elope with anybody--although such a thing is far from my
mind--and the World seems a cruel and unjust place, especialy to
those with ambition.

     For Reginald Beecher is no longer my ideal, my Night of the
pen. I will tell about that in a few words.

     Jane Raleigh and I went to a matinee late in September
before returning to our institutions of learning. Jane cluched
my arm as we looked at our programs and pointed to something.

     How my heart beat! For whatever had come between us, I was
still loyal to him.

     This was a new play by him!

     "Ah," my heart seemed to say, "now again you will hear his
dear words, although spoken by alien mouths.

     The love seens----"

     I could not finish. Although married and forever beyond me,
I could still hear his manly tones as issueing from the door of
the Bath-house. I thrilled with excitement. As the curtain rose
I closed my eyes in ecstacy.

     "Bab!" Jane said, in a quavering tone.

     I looked. What did I see? The bath-house itself, the very
one. And as I stared I saw a girl, wearing her hair as I wear
mine, cross the stage with a Bunch of Keys in her hand, and say
to the bath-house door.

     "Can't I do somthing to help? I do so want to help you."

     _My very words_.

     And a voice from beyond the bath-house door said:

     "Who's that?"

     _His words_.

     I could bare no more. Heedless of Jane's Protests and
Anguish, I got up and went out, into the light of day. My body
was bent with misry. Because at last I knew that, like mother
and all the rest, _he to did not understand me, and never
would_. To him I was but material, the stuff that plays are made
of!

              _And now we know that he never could know_,

              _And did not understand_.

                                              _Kipling._

     Ignoring Jane's observation that the tickets had cost two
dollars each, I gathered up the scattered Skeins of my life
together, and fled.

CHAPTER III

HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL OF THE SUB-DEB

JANUARY 1st. I have today recieved this dairy from home, having
come back a few days early to make up a French Condition.

     Weather, clear and cold.

     New Year's dinner. Roast chicken (Turkey being very
expencive), mashed Turnips, sweet Potatos and minse Pie.

     It is my intention to record in this book the details of my
Daily Life, my thoughts which are to sacred for utterence, and
my ambitions. Because who is there to whom I can speak them? I
am surounded by those who exist for the mere Pleasures of the
day, or whose lives are bound up in Resitations.

     For instance, at dinner today, being mostly faculty and a
few girls who live in the Far West, the conversation was
entirely on buying a Phonograph for dancing because the music
teacher has the meazles and is quarentined in the infirmery. And
on Miss Everett's couzin, who has written a play.

     When one looks at Miss Everett, one recognises that no
couzin of hers could write a play.

     New Year's resolution--to help some one every day. Today
helped Mademoiselle to put on her rubers.

     JANUARY 2ND. Today I wrote my French theme, beginning, "Les
hommes songent moins a leur _Ame qu a_ leur _corps_.
Mademoiselle sent for me and objected, saying that it was not a
theme for a young girl, and that I must write a new one, on the
subject of pears. How is one to develope in this atmosphere?

     Some of the girls are coming back. They stragle in, and put
the favers they got at Cotillions on the  dresser, and their
holaday gifts, and each one relates some amorus experience while
at home. Dear dairy, is there somthing wrong with me, that Love
has passed me by? I have had offers of Devotion but none that
apealed to me, being mostly either to young or not atracting me
by physicle charm. I am not cold, although frequently acused of
it, Beneath my fridgid Exterior beats a warm heart. I intend to
be honest in this dairy, and so I admit it. But, except for
passing Fansies--one being, alas, for a married man--I remain
without the Divine Passion.

     What must it be to thrill at the aproach of the loved Form?
To harken to each ring of the telephone bell, in the hope that,
if it is not the Idolised Voice, it is at least a message from
it? To waken in the morning and, looking around the familiar
room, to muze: "Today I may see him--on the way to the Post
Office, or rushing past in his racing car." And to know that at
the same moment _he_ to is muzing: "Today I may see her, as she
exercises herself at basket ball, or mounts her horse for a
daily canter!"

     Although I have no horse. The school does not care for
them, considering walking the best exercise.

     Have flunked the French again, Mademoiselle not feeling
well, and marking off for the smallest Thing.

     Today's helpfull Deed--asisted one of the younger girls
with her spelling.

     JANUARY 4TH. Miss Everett's couzin's play is coming here.
The school is to have free tickets, as they are "trying it on
the dog." Which means seeing if it is good enough for the large
cities.

     We have desided, if Everett marks us well in English from
now on, to aplaud it, but if she is unpleasent, to sit still and
show no interest.

     JANUARY 5TH, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH. Bad weather, which is
depressing to one of my Temperment. Also boil on noze.

     A few helpfull Deeds--nothing worth putting down.

     JANUARY 9TH. Boil cut.

     Again I can face my Image in my mirror, and not shrink.

     Mademoiselle is sick and no French. _Misericorde_!

     Helpfull Deed--sent Mademoiselle some fudge, but this
school does not encourage kindness. Reprimanded for cooking in
room. School sympathises with me. We will go to Miss Everett's
couzin's play, but we will dam it with faint praise.

     JANUARY 10TH. I have written this Date, and now I sit back
and regard it. As it is impressed on this white paper, so, Dear
Dairy, is it written on my Soul. To others it may be but the
tenth of January. To me it is the day of days. Oh, tenth of
January! Oh, Monday. Oh, day of my awakning!

     It is now late at night, and around me my schoolmates are
sleeping the sleep of the young and Heart free. Lights being
off, I am writing by the faint luminocity of a candle. Propped
up in bed, my mackinaw coat over my _robe de nuit_ for warmth,
I sit and dream. And as I dream I still hear in my ears his
final words: "My darling. My woman!"

     How wonderfull to have them said to one Night after Night,
the while being in his embrase, his tender arms around one! I
refer to the heroine in the play, to whom he says the above
raptureous words.

     Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the
revelation of what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss
Everett if her couzin had said anything about Mr. Egleston being
in love with the Leading Character. She observed:

     "No. But he may be. She is very pretty."

     "Possably," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in
the morning, when she gets up."

     All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston,
although pretending merely to admire his Art. But I am being
honest, as I agreed at the start, and now I know, as I sit here
with the soft, although chilly breeses of the night blowing on
my hot brow, now I know that this thing that has come to me is
Love. Morover, it is the Love of my Life. He will never know it,
but I am his. He is exactly my Ideal, strong and tall and
passionate. And clever, to. He said some awfuly clever things.

     I beleive that he saw me. He looked in my direction. But
what does it matter? I am small, insignifacant. He probably
thinks me a mere child, although seventeen.

     What matters, oh Dairy, is that I am at last in Love. It is
hopeless. Just now, when I had written that word, I buried my
face in my hands. There is no hope. None. I shall never see him
again. He passed out of my life on the 11:45 train. But I love
him. _Mon Dieu_, how I love him!

     JANUARY 11TH. We are going home. _We are going home_. WE
ARE GOING HOME. WE ARE GOING HOME!

     Mademoiselle has the meazles.

     JANUARY 13TH. The Familey managed to restrain its ecstacy
on seeing me today. The house is full of people, as they are
having a Dinner-Dance tonight. Sis had moved into my room, to
let one of the visitors have hers, and she acted in a very
unfilial manner when she came home and found me in it.

     "Well!" she said. "Expelled at last?"

     "Not at all," I replied in a lofty manner. "I am here
through no fault of my own. And I'd thank you to have Hannah
take your clothes off my bed."

     She gave me a bitter glanse.

     "I never knew it to fail!" she said. "Just as everything is
fixed, and we're recovering from you're being here for the
Holadays, you come back and stir up a lot of trouble. What
brought you, anyhow?"

     "Meazles."

     She snached up her ball gown.

     "Very well," she said. "I'll see that you're quarentined,
Miss Barbara, all right. And If you think you're going to slip
downstairs tonight after dinner and _worm_ yourself into this
party, I'll show you."

     She flounsed out, and shortly afterwards mother took a
minute from the Florest, and came upstairs.

     "I do hope you are not going to be troublesome, Barbara,"
she said. "You are too young to understand, but I want
everything to go well tonight, and Leila ought not to be
worried."

     "Can't I dance a little?"

     "You can sit on the stairs and watch." She looked fidgity.
"I--I'll send up a nice dinner, and you can put on your dark
blue, with a fresh collar, and--it ought to satisfy you,
Barbara, that you are at home and posibly have brought the
meazles with you, without making a lot of fuss. When you come
out----"

     "Oh, very well," I murmured, in a resined tone. "I don't
care enough about it to want to dance with a lot of Souses
anyhow."

     "Barbara!" said mother.

     "I suppose you have some one on the String for her," I
said, with the _abandon_ of my thwarted Hopes. "Well, I hope she
gets him. Because if not I darsay I shall be kept in the Cradle
for years to come."

     "You will come out when vou reach a proper Age," she said,
"if your Impertanence does not kill me off before my Time."

     Dear Dairy, I am fond of my mother, and I felt repentent
and stricken.

     So I became more agreable, although feeling all the time
that she does not and never will understand my Temperment. I
said:

     "I don't care about Society, and you know it, mother. If
you'll keep Leila out of this room, which isn't much but is my
Castle while here, I'll probably go to bed early."

     "Barbara, sometimes I think you have no afection for your
Sister."

     I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied.

     "I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at
school than at home. And I should be a better Sister if not
condemed to her old things, including hats which do not suit my
Tipe."

     Mother moved over magestically to the door and shut it.
Then she came and stood over me.

     "I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to
appeal to your better Nature. Do you wish Leila to be married
and happy?"

     "I've just said, mother----"

     "Because a very interesting thing is happening," said
mother, trying to look playfull. "I--a chance any girl would
jump at."

     So here I sit, Dear Dairy, while there are sounds of
revelery below, and Sis jumps at her chance, which is the
Honorable Page Beres ford, who is an Englishman visiting here
because he has a weak heart and can't fight. And father is away
on business, and I am all alone.

     I have been looking for a rash, but no luck.

     Ah me, how the strains of the orkestra recall that magic
night in the theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my
eyes and although ostensably to an actress, said to my beating
heart: "My Darling! My Woman!"

     3 A. M. I wonder if I can controll my hands to write.

     In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious Voices,
and I know that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland.
Let her beg. Switzerland is not far from England, and in
England----

     Here I pause to reflect a moment. How is this thing
possible? Can I love to members of the Other Sex? And if such is
the Case, how can I go on with my Life? Better far to end it
now, than to perchance marry one, and find the other still in my
heart. The terrable thought has come to me that I am fickel.

     Fickel or polygamus--which?

     Dear Dairy, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's
Resolutions have gone to airey nothing.

     The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet
evening, spent with his beloved picture which I had clipped from
a newspaper. (Adrian's. I had not as yet met the other.) And, as
I sat in my chamber, I grew more and more desolate. I love Life,
although pessamistic at times. And it seemed hard that I should
be there, in exile, while my Sister, only 2O months older, was
jumping at her chance below.

     At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how
I looked in it. I though, if it looked all right, I might hang
over the stairs and see what I then scornfully termed "His
Nibs." Never again shall I so call him.

     I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me
quite well, although tight at the waste for me, owing to Basket
Ball. It was also to low, so that when I had got it all hooked
about four inches of my _lingerie_ showed. As it had been hard
as anything to hook, I was obliged to take the scizzors and cut
off the said _lingerie_. The result was good, although very
_decollte_. I have no bones in my neck, or practicaly so.

     And now came my moment of temptation. How easy to put my
hair up on my head, and then, by the servant's staircase, make
my way to the seen below!

     I, however, considered that I looked pale, although Mature.
I looked at least nineteen. So I went into Sis's room, which was
full of evening wraps but emty, and put on a touch of rouge.
With that and my eyebrows blackend, I would not have known
myself, had I not been certain it was I and no other.

     I then made my way down the Back Stairs.

     Ah me, Dear Dairy, was that but a few hours ago? Is it but
a short time since Mr. Beresford was sitting at my feet,
thinking me a _debutante_, and staring soulfully into my very
heart? Is it but a matter of minutes since Leila found us there,
and in a manner which revealed the true feeling she has for me,
ordered me to go upstairs and take off Maidie Mackenzie's gown?

     (Yes, it was not Leila's after all. I had forgotten that
Maidie had taken her room. And except for pulling it somewhat at
the waste, I am sure I did not hurt the old thing.)

     I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not.
My heart is full. Romanse has come at last into my dull and
dreary life. Below, the revelers have gone. The flowers hang
their herbacious heads. The music has flowed away into the river
of the past. I am alone with my Heart.

     JANUARY 14TH. How complacated my Life grows, Dear Dairy!
How full and yet how incomplete! How everything begins and
nothing ends!

     _He_ is in town.

     I discovered it at breakfast. I knew I was in for it, and
I got down early, counting on mother breakfasting in bed. I
would have felt better if father had been at home, because he
understands somwhat the way They keep me down. But he was away
about an order for shells (not sea; war), and I was to bear my
chiding alone. I had eaten my fruit and serial, and was about to
begin on sausage, when mother came in, having risen early from
her slumbers to take the decorations to the Hospital.

     "So here you are, wreched child!" she said, giving me one
of her coldest looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think
whither you are tending."

     I ate a sausage.

     What, Dear Dairy, was there to say?

     "To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the
atention of Mr. Beresford, in a borowed dress, with your
eyelashes blackend and your face painted----"

     "I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to
marry into this family, and is not merely being dragged into it,
that he ought to see the worst at the start." She glired,
without speaking. "You know," I continued, "it would be a
dreadfull thing to have the Ceramony performed and everything to
late to back out, and then have _me_ Sprung on him. It wouldn't
be honest, would it?"

     "Barbara!" she said in a terrable tone. "First
disobedience, and now sarcasm. If your father was only here! I
feel so alone and helpless."

     Her tone cut me to the Heart. After all she was my own
mother, or at least maintained so, in spite of numerous
questions enjendered by our lack of resemblence, moral as well
as physicle. But I did not offer to embrase her, as she was at
that moment poring out her tea. I hid my misery behind the
morning paper, and there I beheld the fated vision. Had I felt
any doubt as to the state of my afections it was settled then.
My Heart leaped in my bosom. My face sufused. My hands trembled
so that a piece of sausage slipped from my fork. _His picture
looked out at me with that well remembered gaze from the depths
of the morning paper_.

     Oh, Adrian, Adrian!

     Here in the same city as I, looking out over perchance the
same newspaper to perchance the same sun, wondering--ah, what
was he wondering?

     I was not even then, in that first Rapture, foolish about
him. I knew that to him I was probably but a tender memory. I
knew, to, that he was but human and probably very concieted. On
the other hand, I pride myself on being a good judge of
character, and he carried Nobility in every linament. Even the
obliteration of one eye by the printer could only hamper but not
destroy his dear face.

     "Barbara," mother said sharply. "I am speaking. Are you
being sulkey?"

     "Pardon me, mother," I said in my gentlest tones. "I was
but dreaming." And as she made no reply, but rang the bell
visciously, I went on, pursuing my line of thought. "Mother,
were you ever in Love?"

     "Love! What sort of Love?"

     I sat up and stared at her.

     "Is there more than one sort?" I demanded.

     "There is a very silly, schoolgirl Love," she said, eyeing
me, "that people outgrow and blush to look back on."

     "Do you?"

     "Do I what?"

     "Do you blush to look back on it?"

     Mother rose and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm.

     "I wash my hands of you!" she said. "You are impertanent
and indelacate. At your age I was an inocent child, not
troubleing with things that did not concern me. As for Love, I
had never heard of it until I came out."

     "Life must have burst on you like an explosion," I
observed. "I suppose you thought that babies----"

     "Silense!" mother shreiked. And seeing that she persisted
in ignoring the real things of Life while in my presence, I went
out, cluching the precious paper to my Heart.

     JANUARY 15TH. I am alone in my _boudoir_ (which is realy
the old schoolroom, and used now for a sowing room).

     My very soul is sick, oh Dairy. How can I face the truth?
How write it out for my eyes to see? But I must. For _something
must be done_. The play is failing.

     The way I discovered it was this. Yesterday, being short of
money, I sold my amethist pin to Jane, one of the housemaids,
for two dollars, throwing in a lace coller when she seemed
doubtful, as I had a special purpose for useing funds. Had
father been at home I could have touched him, but mother is
diferent.

     I then went out to buy a frame for his picture, which I had
repaired by drawing in the other eye, although licking the Fire
and passionate look of the originle. At the shop I was compeled
to show it, to buy a frame to fit. The clerk was almost
overpowered.

     "Do you know him?" she asked, in a low and throbing tone.

     "Not intimitely," I replied.

     "Don't you love the Play?" she said. "I'm crazy about it.
I've been back three times. Parts of it I know off by heart.
He's very handsome. That picture don't do him justise."

     I gave her a searching glanse. Was it posible that, without
any acquaintance with him whatever, she had fallen in love with
him? It was indeed. She showed it in every line of her silly
face.

     I drew myself up hautily. "I should think it would be very
expencive, going so often," I said, in a cool tone.

     "Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give
us girls tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half
the girls in the store are crazy about Mr. Egleston."

     My world shuddered about me. What--fail! That beautiful
play, ending "My darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would
not be cruel. Was there no apreciation of the best in Art? Was
it indeed true, as Miss Everett has complained, although not in
these exact words, that the Theater was only supported now by
chorus girls' legs, dancing about in uter _abandon_?

     With an expression of despair on my features, I left the
store, carrying the Frame under my arm.

     One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge
it with a criticle eye. _If it is worth saving, it must be
saved_.

     JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Dairy?
Can so much have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I
look in my mirror, and I look much as before, only with perhaps
a touch of paller. Who would not be pale?

     I have seen _him_ again, and there is no longer any doubt
in my heart. Page Beresford is atractive, and if it were not for
circumstances as they are I would not anser for the
consequences. But things _are_ as they are. There is no changing
that. And I have reid my own heart.

     I am not fickel. On the contrary, I am true as steal.

     I have put his Picture under my mattress, and have given
Jane my gold cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And
now, with the house full of People downstairs acting in a
flippent and noisy maner, I shall record how it all happened.

     My finantial condition was not improved this morning,
father having not returned. But I knew that I must see the Play,
as mentioned above, even if it became necesary to borow from
Hannah. At last, seeing no other way, I tried this, but failed.

     "What for?" she said, in a suspicous way."

     "I need it terrably, Hannah," I said.

     "You'd ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss
Barbara. The last time I gave you some you paid it back in
postage stamps, and I haven't written a letter since. They're
all stuck together now, and a totle loss."

     "Very well," I said, fridgidly. "But the next time you
break anything----"

     "How much do you want?" she asked.

     I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had
desided to lend it to me and then run and tell mother,
beginning, "I think you'd ought to know, Mrs. Archibald----"

     "Nothing doing, Hannah," I said, in a most dignafied
manner. "But I think you are an old Clam, and I don't mind
saying so."

     I was now thrown on my own resourses, and very bitter. I
seemed to have no Friends, at a time when I needed them most,
when I was, as one may say, "standing with reluctent feet, where
the brook and river meet."

     Tonight I am no longer sick of Life, as I was then. My
throws of anguish have departed. But I was then uterly reckless,
and even considered running away and going on the stage myself.

     I have long desired a Career for mvself, anyhow. I have a
good mind, and learn easily, and I am not a Paracite. The idea
of being such has always been repugnent to me, while the idea of
a few dollars at a time doaled out to one of independant mind is
galling. And how is one to remember what one has done with one's
Allowence, when it is mostly eaten up by Small Lones, Carfare,
Stamps, Church Collection, Rose Water and Glicerine, and other
Mild Cosmetics, and the aditional Food necesary when one is
still growing?

     To resume, Dear Dairy; having uterly failed with Hannah,
and having shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her,
in a sisterly tone, intimite rather than fond:

     "I darsay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so."

     "I darsay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply.

     "Oh, very well," I said breifly. But I could not refrain
from making a grimase at her back, and she saw me in a mirror.

     "When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wreched
school may be closed for weeks, I could scream."

     "Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've
brought the meazles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can
say good-bye to the Dishonorable. You've got him tide, maybe,"
I remarked, "but not thrown as yet."

     (A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie
Mills, who comes from Montana.)

     I was therfore compeled to dispose of my silver napkin ring
from school. Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the
cook for fifty cents and half a minse pie although baked with
our own materials.

     All my Fate, therfore, hung on a paltrey fifty cents.

     I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty
cents, steel away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself
in obliviousness, gazing only it his dear Face, listening to his
dear and softly modulited Voice, and wondering if, as his eyes
swept the audiance, they might perchance light on me and
brighten with a momentary gleam in their unfathomable Depths?
Only this and nothing more, was my expectation.

     How diferent was the reality!

     Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at
an early hour after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox
furs. White gloves and white topped shoes completed my outfit,
and, my own _chapeau_ showing the effect of a rainstorm on the
way home from church while away at school, I took a chance on
one of Sis's, a perfectly madening one of rose-colored velvet.
As the pink made me look pale, I added a touch of rouge.

     I looked fully out, and indeed almost Second Season. I have
a way of assuming a serious and Mature manner, so that I am
frequently taken for older than I realy am. Then, taking a few
roses left from the decorations, and thrusting them carelessly
into the belt of my coat, I went out the back door, as Sis was
getting ready for some girls to Bridge, in the front of the
house.

     Had I felt any greif at decieving my Familey, the bridge
party would have knocked them. For, as usual, I had not been
asked, although playing a good game myself, and having on more
than one occasion won most of the money in the Upper House at
school.

     I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women
were going around taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents
gave me a good seat, from which I opined, alas, that the shop
girl had been right and busness was rotten. But at last, after
hours of waiting, the faint tuning of musicle instruments was
heard.

     From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt
so strange. I have known and respected the Other Sex, and indeed
once or twise been kissed by it. But I had remained Cold. My
Pulses had never flutered. I was always conserned only with the
fear that others had overseen and would perhaps tell. But now--I
did not care who would see, if only Adrian would put his arms
about me. Divine shamlessness! Brave Rapture! For if one who he
could not possably love, being so close to her in her make-up,
if one who was indeed employed to be made Love to, could submit
in public to his embrases, why should not I, who would have died
for him?

     These were my thoughts as the Play went on. The hours flew
on joyous feet. When Adrian came to the footlights and looking
aparently square at me, declaimed: "The World owes me a living.
I will have it," I almost swooned. His clothes were worn. He
looked hungry and ghaunt. But how true that

     "Rags are royal raimant, when worn for virtue's sake."

     (I shall stop here and go down to the Pantrey. I could eat
no dinner, being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if
I am to help Adrian in his Trouble. The minse pie was excelent,
but after all pastrey does not take the place of solid food.)

     LATER: I shall now go on with my recitle. As the theater
was almost emty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and
left it on as though absent-minded. There was no one behind me.
And, although during Act One I had thought that he perhaps felt
my presense, he had not once looked directly at me.

     But the hat captured his erant gaze, as one may say. And,
after capture, it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed
and a woman. sitting near with a very plain girl in a Skunk
Coller, observed:

     "Realy, it is outragous."

     Now came a moment which I thrill even to recolect. For
Adrian plucked a pink rose from a vase--he was in the
Milionaire' s house, and was starving in the midst of
luxury--and held it to his lips.

     The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he
smiled down at me.

     LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchanse he to is
lieing awake. I am sitting at the window in my _robe de nuit_.
Below, mother and Sis have just come in, and Smith has slamed
the door of the car and gone back to the _garage_. How puney is
the life my Familey leads! Nothing but eating and playing, with
no Higher Thoughts.

     A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognised
the footstep. But no, it was but the night watchman.

     JANUARY 17TH. Father still away. No money, as mother
absolutely refuses on account of Maidie Mackenzie's gown, which
she had to send away to be repaired.

     JANUARY 18TH. Father still away. The Hon. sent Sis a huge
bunch of orkids today. She refused me even one. She is always
tight with flowers and candy.

     JANUARY 19TH. The paper says that Adrian's Play is going to
close the end of next week. No busness. How can I endure to know
that he is sufering, and that I cannot help, even to the extent
of buying one ticket? Matinee today, and no money. Father still
away.

     I have tried to do a kind Deed today, feeling that perhaps
it would soften mother's heart and she would advance my
Allowence. I offered to manacure her nails for her, but she
refused, saying that as Hannah had done it for many years, she
guessed she could manage now.

     JANUARY 2OTH. Today I did a desparate thing, dear Dairy.

     "The desparatest is the wisest course." Butler.

     It is Sunday. I went to Church, and thought things over.
What a wonderfull thing it would be if I could save the play!
Why should I feel that my Sex is a handycap?

     The recter preached on "The Opportunaties of Women." The
Sermon gave me courage to go on. When he said, "Women today step
in where men are afraid to tred, and bring success out of
failure," I felt that it was meant for me.

     Had no money for the Plate, and mother atempted to smugle
a half dollar to me. I refused, however, as if I cannot give my
own money to the Heathen, I will give none. Mother turned pale,
and the man with the plate gave me a black look. What can he
know of my reasons?

     Beresford lunched with us, and as I discouraged him
entirely, he was very atentive to Sis. Mother is planing a big
Wedding, and I found Sis in the store room yesterday looking up
mother's wedding veil.

     No old stuff for me.

     I guess Beresford is trying to forget that he kissed my
hand the other night, for he called me "Little Miss Barbara"
today, meaning little in the sense of young. I gave him a stern
glanse.

     "I am not any littler than the other night," I observed.

     "That was merely an afectionate diminutive," he said,
looking uncomfortable.

     "If you don't mind," I said coldly, "you might do as you
have hertofore--reserve vour afectionate advances until we are
alone."

     "Barbara!" mother said. And began quickly to talk about a
Lady Somthing or other we'd met on a train in Switzerland.
Because--they can talk until they are black in the face, dear
Dairy, but it is true we do not know any of the British
Nobilaty, except the aforementioned and the man who comes once
a year with flavering extracts, who says he is the third son of
a Barronet.

     Every one being out this afternoon, I suddenly had an
inspiration, and sent for Carter Brooks. I then put my hair up
and put on my blue silk, because while I do not beleive in Woman
using her femanine charm when talking busness, I do beleive that
she should look her best under any and all circumstances.

     He was rather surprized not to find Sis in, as I had used
her name in telephoning.

     "I did it," I explained, "because I knew that you felt no
interest in me, and I had to see you."

     He looked at me, and said:

     "I'm rather flabergasted, Bab. I--what ought I to say,
anyhow?"

     He came very close, dear Dairy, and sudenly I saw in his
eyes the horible truth. He thought me in Love with him, and
sending for him while the Familey was out.

     Words cannot paint my agony of Soul. I stepped back, but he
siezed my hand, in a caresing gesture.

     "Bab!" he said. "Dear little Bab!"

     Had my afections not been otherwise engaged, I should have
thriled at his accents. But, although handsome and of good
familey, although poor, I could not see it that way.

     So I drew my hand away, and retreated behind a sofa.

     "We must have an understanding, Carter" I Said. "I have
sent for you, but not for the reason you seem to think. I am in
desparate Trouble."

     He looked dumfounded.

     "Trouble!" he said. "You! Why, little Bab"

     "If you don't mind," I put in, rather petishly, because of
not being little, "I wish you would treat me like almost a
_debutante_, if not entirely. I am not a child in arms."

     "You are sweet enough to be, if the arms might be mine."

     I have puzled over this, since, dear Dairy. Because there
must be some reason why men fall in Love with me. I am not ugly,
but I am not beautifull, my noze being too short. And as for
clothes, I get none except Leila's old things. But Jane Raleigh
says there are women like that. She has a couzin who has had
four Husbands and is beginning on a fifth, although not pretty
and very slovenly, but with a mass of red hair.

     Are all men to be my Lovers?

     "Carter," I said earnestly, "I must tell you now that I do
not care for you--in that way."

     "What made you send for me, then?"

     "Good gracious!" I exclaimed, losing my temper somwhat. "I
can send for the ice man without his thinking I'm crazy about
him, can't I?"

     "Thanks."

     "The truth is," I said, sitting down and motioning him to
a seat in my maturest manner, "I--I want some money. There are
many things, but the Money comes first."

     He just sat and looked at me with his mouth open.

     "Well," he said at last, "of course--I suppose you know
you've come to a Bank that's gone into the hands of a reciever.
But aside from that, Bab, it's a pretty mean trick to send for
me and let me think--well, no matter about that. How much do you
want?"

     "I can pay it back as soon as father comes home," I said,
to releive his mind. It is against my principals to borow money,
especialy from one who has little or none. But since I was doing
it, I felt I might as well ask for a lot.

     "Could you let me have ten dollars?" I said, in a faint
tone.

     He drew a long breath.

     "Well, I guess yes," he observed. "I thought you were going
to touch me for a hundred, anyhow. I--I suppose you wouldn't
give me a kiss and call it square."

     I considered. Because after all, a kiss is not much, and
ten dollars is a good deal. But at last my better nature won
out.

     "Certainly not," I said coldly. "And if there is a String
to it I do not want it."

     So he apologised, and came and sat beside me, without being
a nusance, and asked me what my other troubles were.

     "Carter" I said, in a grave voice, "I know that you beleive
me young and incapable of Afection. But you are wrong. I am of
a most loving disposition."

     "Now see here, Bab," he said. "Be fair. If I am not to hold
your hand, or--or be what you call a nusance, don't talk like
this. I am but human," he said, "and there is somthing about you
lately that--well, go on with your story. Only, as I say, don't
try me to far."

     "It's like this," I explained. "Girls think they are cold
and distant, and indeed, frequently are"

     "Frequently!"

     "Until they meet the Right One. Then they learn that their
hearts are, as you say, but human."

     "Bab," he said, sudenly turning and facing me, "an awfull
thought has come to me. You are in Love--and not with me!"

     "I am in Love, and not with you," I said in tradgic tones.

     I had not thought he would feel it deeply--because of
having been interested in Leila since they went out in their
Perambulaters together. But I could see it was a shock to him.
He got up and stood looking in the fire, and his shoulders shook
with greif.

     "So I have lost you," he said in a smothered voice. And
then--"Who is the sneaking schoundrel?"

     I forgave him this, because of his being upset, and in a
rapt attatude I told him the whole story. He listened, as one in
a daze.

     "But I gather," he said, when at last the recitle was over,
"that you have never met the--met him."

     "Not in the ordinery use of the word," I remarked. "But
then it is not an ordinery situation. We have met and we have
not. Our eyes have spoken, if not our vocal chords." Seeing his
eyes on me I added, "if you do not beleive that Soul can cry
unto Soul, Carter, I shall go no further."

     "Oh!" he exclaimed. "There is more, is there? I trust it is
not painfull, because I have stood as much as I can now without
breaking down."

     "Nothing of which I am ashamed," I said, rising to my full
height. "I have come to you for help, Carter. _That play must
not fail_."

     We faced each other over those vitle words--faced, and
found no solution.

     "Is it a good Play?" he asked, at last.

     "It is a beautiful Play. Oh, Carter, when at the end he
takes his Sweetheart in his arms--the leading lady, and not at
all atractive. Jane Raleigh says that the star generaly _hates_
his leading lady--there is not a dry eye in the house."

     "Must be a jolly little thing. Well, of course I'm no
theatricle manager, but if it's any good there's only one way to
save it. Advertize. I didn't know the piece was in town, which
shows that the publicaty has been rotten."

     He began to walk the floor. I don't think I have mentioned
it, but that is Carter's busness. Not walking the floor.
Advertizing. Father says he is quite good, although only
beginning.

     "Tell me about it," he said.

     So I told him that Adrian was a mill worker, and the
villain makes him lose his position, by means of forjery. And
Adrian goes to jail, and comes out, and no one will give him
work. So he prepares to blow up a Milionaire's house, and his
sweetheart is in it. He has been to the Milionaire for work and
been refused and thrown out, saying, just before the butler and
three footmen push him through a window, in dramatic tones, "The
world owes me a living and I will have it."

     "Socialism!" said Carter. "Hard stuff to handle for the two
dollar seats. The world owes him a living. Humph! Still, that's
a good line to work on. Look here, Bab, give me a little time on
this, eh what? I may be able to think of a trick or two. But
mind, not a word to any one."

     He started out, but he came back.

     "Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow?
Suppose I do think of somthing--what then? How are we to know
that your beloved and his manager will thank us for buting in,
or do what we sugest?"

     Again I drew myself to my full heighth.

     "I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I
said. "You think of somthing, Carter, and I'll see that it is
done."

     He gazed at me in a rapt manner.

     "Dammed if I don't beleive you," he said.

     It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is
still. I take the dear Picture out from under my mattress and
look at it.

     Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love.

     JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Dairy, and feel
rotten. But only my physicle condition is such. I am happy
beyond words. This morning, while mother and Sis were out I
called up the theater and inquired the price of a box. The man
asked me to hold the line, and then came back and said it would
be ten dollars. I told him to reserve it for Miss Putnam--my
middle name.

     I am both terrafied and happy, dear Dairy, as I lie here in
bed with a hot water bottle at my feet. I have helped the Play
by buying a box, and tonight I shall sit in it alone, and he
will percieve me there, and consider that I must be at least
twenty, or I would not be there at the theater alone. Hannah has
just come in and offered to lend me three dollars. I refused
hautily, but at last rang for her and took two. I might as well
have a taxi tonight.

     1 A. M. _The Familey was there_. I might have known it.
Never do I have any luck. I am a broken thing, crushed to earth.
But "Truth crushed to earth will rise again."--Whittier?

     I had my dinner in bed, on account of my cold, and was let
severly alone by the Familey. At seven I rose and with
palpatating fingers dressed myself in my best evening Frock,
which is a pale yellow. I put my hair up, and was just finished,
when mother nocked. It was terrable.

     I had to duck back into bed and crush everything. But she
only looked in and said to try and behave for the next three
hours, and went away.

     At a quarter to eight I left the house in a clandestine
manner by means of the cellar and the area steps, and on the
pavment drew a long breath. I was free, and I had twelve
dollars.

     Act One went well, and no disturbence. Although Adrian
started when he saw me. The yellow looked very well.

     I had expected to sit back, sheltered by the curtains, and
only visable from the stage. I have often read of this method.
But there were no curtains. I therfore sat, turning a stoney
profile to the Audiance, and ignoreing it, as though it were not
present, trusting to luck that no one I knew was there.

     He saw me. More than that, he hardly took his eyes from the
box wherein I sat. I am sure to that he had mentioned me to the
Company, for one and all they stared at me until I think they
will know me the next time they see me.

     I still think I would not have been recognized by the
Familey had I not, in a very quiet seen, commenced to sneaze. I
did this several times, and a lot of people looked anoyed, as
though I sneazed because I liked to sneaze. And I looked back at
them defiantly, and in so doing, encountered the gaze of my
Maternal Parent.

     Oh, Dear Dairy, that I could have died at that moment, and
thus, when streched out a pathetic figure, with tubroses and
other flowers, have compeled their pity. But alas, no. I sneazed
again!

     Mother was weged in, and I saw that my only hope was
flight. I had not had more than between three and four dollars
worth of the evening, but I glansed again and Sis was boring
holes into me with her eyes. Only Beresford knew nothing, and
was trying to hold Sis's hand under her opera cloak. Any fool
could tell that.

     But, as I was about to rise and stand poized, as one may
say, for departure, I caught Adrian's eyes, with a gleam in
their deep depths. He was, at the moment, toying with the bowl
of roses. He took one out, and while the Leading Lady was
talking, he eged his way toward my box. There, standing very
close, aparently by accident, he droped the rose into my lap.

     Oh Dairy! Dairy!

     I picked it up, and holding it close to me, I flew.

     I am now in bed and rather chilley. Mother banged at the
door some time ago, and at last went away, mutering.

     I am afraid she is going to be petish.

     JANUARY 22ND. Father came home this morning, and things are
looking up. Mother of course tackeled him first thing, and when
he came upstairs I expected an awful time. But my father is a
reel Person, so he only sat down on the bed, and said:

     "Well, chicken, so you're at it again!"

     I had to smile, although my chin shook.

     "You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was
born for Trouble. My advice to the Familey is to get out from
under. That's all."

     "Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty conveniant to
have a Familey to drop on when the slump comes." He thumped
himself on the chest. "A hundred and eighty pounds," he
observed, "just intended for little daughters to fall back on
when other things fail."

     "Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had
been bearing my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do
you beleive in Love?"

     "_Do_ I!"

     "But I mean, not the ordinery atachment between two married
people. I mean Love--the reel thing."

     "I see! Why, of course I do."

     "Did you ever read Pope, father?"

     "Pope? Why I--probably, chicken. Why?"

     "Then you know what he says: `Curse on all laws but those
which Love has made.'"

     "Look here," he said, sudenly laying a hand on my brow. "I
beleive you are feverish."

     "Not feverish, but in trouble," I explained. And so I told
him the story, not saying much of my deep Passion for Adrian,
but merely that I had formed an atachment for him which would
persist during Life. Although I had never yet exchanged a word
with him.

     Father listened and said it was indeed a sad story, and
that he knew my deep nature, and that I would be true to the
End. But he refused to give me any money, except enough to pay
back Hannah and Carter Brooks, saying:

     "Your mother does not wish you to go to the Theater again,
and who are we to go against her wishes? And anyhow, maybe if
you met this fellow and talked to him, you would find him a
disapointment. Many a pretty girl I have seen in my time, who
didn't pan out acording to specifications when I finaly met
her."

     At this revalation of my beloved father's true self, I was
almost stuned. It is evadent that I do not inherit my being true
as steal from him. Nor from my mother, who is like steal in
hardness but not in being true to anything but Social Position.

     As I record this awfull day, dear Dairy, there comes again
into my mind the thought that _I do not belong here_. I am not
like them. I do not even resemble them in features. And, if I
belonged to them, would they not treat me with more
consideration and less disipline? Who, in the Familey, has my
noze?

     It is all well enough for Hannah to observe that I was a
pretty baby with fat cheaks. May not Hannah herself, for some
hiden reason, have brought me here, taking away the real I to
perhaps languish unseen and "waste my sweetness on the dessert
air"? But that way lies madness. Life must be made the best of
as it is, and not as it might be or indeed ought to be.

     Father promised before he left that I was not to be
scolded, as I felt far from well, and was drinking water about
every minute.

     "I just want to lie here and think about things," I said,
when he was going. "I seem to have so many thoughts. And father-
---"

     "Yes, chicken."

     "If I need any help to carry out a plan I have, will you
give it to me, or will I have to go to totle strangers?"

     "Good gracious, Bab!" he exclaimed. "Come to me, of
course."

     "And you'll do what you're told?"

     He looked out into the hall to see if mother was near.
Then, dear Dairy, he turned to me and said:

     "I always have, Bab. I guess I'll run true to form."

     JANUARY 23RD. Much better today. Out and around. Familey
(mother and Sis) very dignafied and nothing much to say.
Evadently have promised father to restrain themselves. Father
rushed and not coming home to dinner.

     Beresford on edge of proposeing. Sis very jumpy.

     LATER: Jane Raleigh is home for her couzin's wedding! Is
coming over. We shall take a walk, as I have much to tell her.

     6 P. M. What an afternoon! How shall I write it? This is a
Milestone in my Life.

     I have met him at last. Nay, more. I have been in his
dressing room, conversing as though acustomed to such things all
my life. I have conceled under the mattress a real photograph of
him, beneath which he has written Yours always, Adrian
Egleston."

     I am writing in bed, as the room is chilley--or I am--and
by putting out my hand I can touch His pictured likeness.

     Jane came around for me this afternoon, and mother
consented to a walk. I did not have a chance to take Sis's pink
hat, as she keeps her door locked now when not in her room.
Which is rediculous, because I am not her tipe, and her things
do not suit me very well anyhow. And I have never borowed
anything but gloves and handkercheifs, except Maidie's dress and
the hat.

     She had, however, not locked her bathroom, and finding a
bunch of violets in the washbowl I put them on. It does not hurt
violets to wear them, and anyhow I knew Carter Brooks had sent
them and she ought to wear only Beresford's flowers if she means
to marry him.

     Jane at once remarked that I looked changed.

     "Naturaly," I said, in a _blase_ maner.

     "If I didn't know you, Bab," she observed, "I would say
that you are rouged."

     I became very stiff and distant at that. For Jane, although
my best friend, had no right to be suspicous of me.

     "How do I look changed?" I demanded.

     "I don't know. You--Bab, I beleive you are up to some
mischeif!"

     "Mischeif?"

     "You don't need to pretend to me," she went on, looking
into my very soul. "I have eyes. You're not decked out this way
for _me_."

     I had meant to tell her nothing, but spying just then a man
ahead who walked like Adrian, I was startled. I cluched her arm
and closed my eyes.

     "Bab!" she said.

     The man turned, and I saw it was not he. I breathed again.
But Jane was watching me, and I spoke out of an overflowing
Heart.

     "For a moment I thought--Jane, I have met _the One_ at
last."

     "Barbara!" she said, and stopped dead. "Is it any one I
know?"

     "He is an Actor."

     "Ye gods!" said Jane, in a tence voice. "What a tradgedy!"

     "Tradgedy indeed," I was compeled to admit. "Jane, my Heart
is breaking. I am not alowed to see him. It is all off,
forever."

     "Darling!" said Jane. "You are trembling all over. Hold on
to me. Do they disaprove?"

     "I am never to see him again. Never."

     The bitterness of it all overcame me. My eves sufused with
tears.

     But I told her, in broken accents, of my determination to
stick to him, no matter what. I might never be Mrs. Adrian
Egleston, but----"

     "Adrian Egleston!" she cried, in amazement. "Why _Barbara_,
you lucky Thing!"

     So, finding her fuller of simpathy than usual, I violated
my Vow of Silence and told her all.

     And, to prove the truth of what I said, I showed her the
sachet over my heart containing his rose.

     "It's perfectly wonderfull," Jane said, in an awed tone.
"You beat anything I've ever known for Adventures. You are the
tipe men like, for one thing. But there is one thing I could not
stand, in your place--having to know that he is making love to
the heroine every evening and twice on Wednesdays and--Bab, this
is _Wednesday_!"

     I glansed at my wrist watch. It was but to o'clock.
Instantly, dear Dairy, I became conscious of a dual going on
within me, between love and duty. Should I do as instructed and
see him no more, thus crushing my inclination under the iron
heal of Resolution? Or should I cast my Parents to the winds,
and go?

     Which?

     At last I desided to leave it to Jane. I observed: "I'm
forbiden to try to see him. But I darsay, if you bought some
theater tickets and did not say what the play was, and we went
and it happened to be his, it would not be my fault, would it?"

     I cannot recall her reply, or much more, except that I
waited in a Pharmasy, and Jane went out, and came back and took
me by the arm.

     "We're going to the matinee, Bab," she said. "I'll not tell
you which one, because it's to be a surprize." She squeazed my
arm. "First row," she whispered.

     I shall draw a Veil over my feelings. Jane bought some
chocolates to take along, but I could eat none. I was thirsty,
but not hungry. And my cold was pretty bad, to.

     So we went in, and the curtain went up. When Adrian saw me,
in the front row, he smiled although in the midst of a serious
speach about the world oweing him a living. And Jane was
terrably excited.

     "Isn't he the handsomest Thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I
can see that he adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest
of the people mean nothing to him. He sees but you."

     Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she
said I could do nothing less than send him a note.

     "You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of
everything," she said.

     If I had not decieved Jane things would be better. But she
was set on my sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my
visiting card, holding it so she could not read it. Jane is my
best friend and I am devoted to her, but she has no scruples
about reading what is not meant for her. I said:

     "Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the Play is perfectly
wonderfull. And you are perfectly splendid in it. It is
perfectly terrable that it is going to stop.

                                 "(Signed) The girl of the
rose."

     I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear
Dairy. It was such a letter as any one might read, and contained
nothing compromizing. Still, I darsay I should not have written
it. But "out of the fulness of the Heart the mouth speaketh."

     I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the
usher. But Jane did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope.

     Now comes the real surprize, dear Dairy. For the usher came
down and said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him
after the act was over. I think a paller must have come over me,
and Jane said:

     "Bab! Do you dare?"

     I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of
water. I seemed to be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and
I recovered my _savoir fair_, and stopped shaking.

     I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from
asking her. She then said:

     "Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy
about it."

     Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led
to him. The entire seen is engraved on my Soul. I, with my very
heart in my eyes, in spite of my eforts to seem cool and
collected. He, in front of his mirror, drawing in the lines of
starvation around his mouth for the next seen, while on his poor
feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II!

     He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand.

     "Well!" he said. "At last!"

     He did not seem to mind the _valet_, whom he treated like
a chair or table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my
eyes.

     Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but
never again will I know such ecstacy as at that moment.

     "Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's
violets today, isn't it? And so you like the Play?"

     I was by that time somwhat calmer, but glad to sit down,
owing to my knees feeling queer.

     "I think it is magnifacent," I said.

     "I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a
moment, I have to make a change here. No need to go out. There's
a screan for that very purpose."

     He went behind the screan, and the man handed him a raged
shirt over the top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed.
What I reflected, would the School say if it but knew! I felt no
remorce. I was there, and beyond the screan, changing into the
garments of penury, was the only member of the Other Sex I had
ever felt I could truly care for.

     Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it
all. He was perfectly respectfull, and only his eyes showed his
true feelings. The woman who is the Adventuress in the play came
to the Door, but he motioned her away with a waive of the hand.
And at last it was over, and he was asking me to come again
soon, and if I wou1d care to have one of his pictures.

     I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of
a w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y----

     JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse.

     Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now.
He is sore about Beresford and said he would not come to the
house. So I have asked him to meet me in the Park, and said that
there were only to more days, this being Thursday.

     LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only
father will do it.

     He says the Theme is that the world owes Adrian a living,
and that the way to do is to put that strongly before the
people.

     "Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big
factery, and demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could
pretend to be starving and say: `The world owes me a living, and
I intend to have it.'"

     "But supose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I
observed.

     "Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up
first. It ought to be aranged that he not only be refused, but
what's more, that he'll be thrown out. He'll have to cut up a
lot, d'you see, so they'll throw him out. And we'll have
Reporters there, so the story can get around. You get it, don't
you? Your friend, in order to prove that the idea of the Play is
right, goes out for a job, and proves that he cannot demand
Laber and get it." He stopped and spoke with excitement: "Is he
a real sport? Would he stand being arested? Because that would
cinch it."

     But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such
humiliation. I would not have him arested. And at last Carter
gave in.

     "But you get the Idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of
a Row, and it's good for a half collumn on the first page of the
evening papers. Result, a jamb that night at the performence,
and a new lease of life for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruized
and battered, and perhaps with a limp. The Labor Unions take up
the matter--it's a knock out. I'd charge a thousand dollars for
that idea if I were selling it."

     "Bruized!" I exclaimed. "Realy bruized or painted on?"

     He glared at me impatiently.

     "Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you.
You've got to play up. And if your young man won't stand a bang
in the eye, for instanse, to earn his Bread and Butter, he's not
worth saving."

     "Who are you going to get to--to throw him out?" I asked,
in a faltering tone.

     He stopped and stared at me.

     "I like that!" he said. "It's not my Play that's failing,
is it? Go and tell him the Skeme, and then let his manager work
it out. And tell him who I am, and that I have a lot of Ideas,
but this is the only one I'm giving away."

     We had arived at the house by that time and I invited him
to come in. But he only glansed bitterly at the Windows and
observed that they had taken in the mat with Welcome on it, as
far as he was concerned. And went away.

     Although we have never had a mat with Welcome on it.

     Dear Dairy, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle
and kind-hearted, and it would be painfull to him. But to who
else can I turn in my extremity?

     I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed
and if kindly treated will do anything. But if aproached in the
wrong way, or asked to do somthing against his principals, he
becomes a Roaring Lion.

     He would never be bully-ed into giving a Man work, even so
touching a Personallity as Adrian's.

     LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard
of Beresford and is in a terrable temper. He says Sis can't
marry him, because he is sure there are plenty of things he
could be doing in England, if not actualy fighting.

     "He could probably run a bus, and releace some one who can
fight," he shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's
work with his hands. Don't let me see him, that's all."

     "Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila
asked, in a cold furey.

     "Just keep him out of my sight," father snaped. "I supose
I can't keep him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part
to help the Allies"

     "Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornfull maner. "While you help
your bank account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but
for Heaven's sake don't put it on altruistic grounds."

     She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother
merely set her lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called,
later, Tanney had to tell him the Familey was out.

     Were it not for our afections, and the necessity for
getting married, so there would be an increase in the
Population, how happy we could all be!

     LATER: I have seen father.

     It was a painfull evening, with Sis shut away in her room,
and father cuting the ends off cigars in a viscious maner.
Mother was _non est_, and had I not had my memories, it would
have been a Sickning Time.

     I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he
usualy does, like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat
perfectly still in a large chair, and except for an ocasional
sneaze, was quiet.

     Only once did my parent adress me in an hour, when he said:

     "What the devil's making you sneaze so?"

     "My noze, I think, sir," I said meekly.

     "Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small noze to be making
such a racket."

     I was cut to the heart, dear Dairy. One of my dearest
dreams has always been a delicate noze, slightly arched and long
enough to be truly aristocratic. Not realy acqualine but on the
verge. I _hate_ my little noze--hate it--hate it--_hate it_.

     "Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can
you! To taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly
heredatary and partly carelessness. For if you had pinched it in
infansy it would have been a good noze, and not a pug. And----"

     "Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to
insult your noze. As a matter of fact, it's a good noze. It's
exactly the sort of noze you ought to have. Why, what in the
world would _you_ do with a Roman noze?"

     I have not been feeling very well, dear Dairy, and so I
sudenly began to weap.

     "Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his
knee. "Don't tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!"

     "Behind a noze," I said, feebly.

     So he said he liked my noze, even although somwhat swolen,
and he kissed it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last
I saw he was about ready to be tackeled. So I observed:

     "Father, will you do me a faver?"

     "Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Busness is pretty
good now, and I've about landed the new order for shells for the
English War Department. I--supose we make it fifty! Although,
we'd better keep it a Secret between the to of us."

     I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty
dollars to doing somthing for Adrian? A mere bagatelle.

     "Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English
teacher?"

     He remembered the name.

     "Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded
intencely.

     "What sort of a favor?"

     "Her couzin has written a play. She is very fond of her
couzin, and anxious to have him suceed. And it is a lovely
play."

     He held me off and stared at me.

     "So _that_ is what you were doing in that box alone!" he
exclaimed. "You incomprehensable child! Why didn't you tell your
mother?"

     "Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low
voice. "I thought, by buying a Box, I would do my part to help
Miss Everett's couzin's play suceed. And as a result I was
draged home, and shamefully treated in the most mortafying
maner. But I am acustomed to brutalaty."

     "Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that,
chicken. Well, I won't finanse the play, but short of that I'll
do what I can."

     However he was not so agreable when I told him Carter
Brooks' plan. He delivered a firm no.

     "Although," he said, "sombody ought to do it, and show the
falasy of the Play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe
the fellow a living, unless he will hustel around and make it.
In the second place an employer has a right to turn away a man
he doesn't want. No one can force Capitle to employ Labor."

     "Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of
noise, and Capitle is to dignafied to say anything, most people
are going to side with Labor."

     He gazed at me.

     "Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true
femanine fashion."

     "Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you
for Work? He intends to force you to employ him."

     "Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a feirce voice.
"Well, let him come. I can stand up for my Principals, to. I'll
throw him out, all right."

     Dear Dairy, the battle is over and I have won. I am very
happy. How true it is that strategy will do more than violance!

     We have aranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill,
dressed like a decayed Gentleman, and father will refuse to give
him work. I have said nothing about violance, leaving that to
arange itself.

     I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to
tell some reporters that there may be a story at the mill on
Saturday morning. I am to excited to sleep.

     Feel horid. Forbiden to go out this morning.

     JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother
and Sis had a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because
he did not want his Busness known. But he is here to place a
shell order for the English War Department.

     "Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and
see him curl up."

     "No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Realy you must allow me
I must inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a
thing for men to settle. Besides, it is a delacate matter. Mr.
Archibald is trying to get the Order, and our New York office,
if I am willing, is ready to place it with him."

     "Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you
British don't beat anything for keeping your own Counsel!"

     I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was
sickning.

     Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that
night, and I had to sit through silver vegatable dishes, and
after-dinner coffee sets and plates and a grand piano and a set
of gold vazes and a cabushon saphire and the bridesmaid's
clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows what. But at
last she said:

     "You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!"

     I closed my eyes.

     "But you don't intend to give him up, do you?"

     "Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like
one who would give him up, because of Familey objections?"

     "How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with
envy. When I think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of
his voice when he made love to that--that creature, I am
posatively _shaken_."

     We sat in somber silence. Then she said:

     "I darsay he detests the Heroine, doesn't he?"

     "He tolarates her," I said, with a shrug.

     More silense. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We
were in my _boudoir_.

     "I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone.

     "Jane!"

     "In the park. He was with the woman that plays the
Adventuress. Ugly old thing."

     I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the
Adventuress was at least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being
both wicked and cruel, and not at all femanine.

     Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most
madening way and put her hand on my Forehead.

     "I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for to days,"
she said. "Your head's hot. I think you need a musterd foot bath
and to go to bed."

     "Hannah," Jane said, in her loftyest fashion, "Miss Barbara
is woried, not ill. And please close the door when you go out."

     Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at
her.

     "If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep
away from Miss Barbara."

     And she went out, slaming the door.

     "Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertanence. Old servant or
not, she ought to have her mouth slaped."

     Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy
about it. I had a headache, but she helped me into my street
things, and got Sis's rose hat for me while Sis was at the
telephone. Then we went out.

     First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow
morning would do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word
to hang around father's office at the mill. He said to have
Adrian there at ten o'clock.

     "Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't
want a flivver, you know."

     "He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a
principal of a thing, he does it."

     "Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to
gentle. And tell your Actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The
more the better. I'll see the Policeman at the mill, and he'll
probably take him up. But we'll get him out for the matinee. And
watch the evening papers."

     It was then that a terrable thought struck me. What if
Adrian considered it beneath his profession to advertize, even
if indirectly? What if he prefered the failure of Miss Everett's
couzin's play to a bruize on the eye? What, in short, if he
refused?

     Dear Dairy, I was stupafied. I knew not which way to turn.
For Men are not like Women, who are dependible and anxious to
get along, and will sacrifise anything for Success. No, men are
likely to turn on the ones they love best, if the smallest
Things do not suit them, such as cold soup, or sleaves to long
from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they have not been
consulted about beforhand.

     "Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look
_stricken_!"

     "My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my
forehead. It did ache, for that matter. It is acheing now, dear
Dairy.

     However, I had begun my task and must go through with it.
Abandoning Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel
and even sneeking, I went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned
of during my _seance_ in his room while he was changing his
garments behind a screan, as it was marked on a dressing case.

     It was then five o'clock.

     How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh,
dear Dairy, to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat
and waited, while people who guessed not the inner trepadation
of my heart past and repast, and glansed at me and at Leila's
pink hat above.

     At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he
aproached, strideing along in that familiar walk, swinging his
strong and tender arms. And I! I beheld him coming and could
think of not a word to say.

     "Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was
going to be lucky today. Friday is my best day."

     "I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing
else.

     "Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit
here. What do you say to a cup of tea in the restarant?"

     How grown up and like a _debutante_ I felt, dear Dairy,
going to have tea as if I had it every day at School, with a
handsome actor across! Although somwhat uneasy also, owing to
the posibility of the Familey coming in. But it did not and I
had a truly happy hour, not at all spoiled by looking out the
window and seeing Jane going by, with her eyes popping out, and
walking very slowly so I would invite her to come in.

     _Which I did not_.

     Dear Dairy, _he will do it_. At first he did not
understand, and looked astounded. But when I told him of Carter
being in the advertizing busness, and father owning a large
mill, and that there would be reporters and so on, he became
thoughtfull.

     "It's realy incredably clever," he said. "And if it's
pulled off right it ought to be a Stampede. But I'd like to see
Mr. Brooks. We can't have it fail, you know." He leaned over the
table. "It's straight goods, is it, Miss er--Barbara? There's
nothing foney about it?"

     "Foney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not."

     He kept on leaning over the table.

     "I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the
Play?"

     Oh, Dairy, Dairy!

     And just then I looked up, and the Adventuress was staring
in the door at me with the _meanest_ look on her face.

     I draw a Veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice
it to say that he considers me exactly the tipe he finds most
atractive, and that he does not consider my noze to short. We
had a long dispute about this. He thinks I am wrong and says I
am not an acquiline tipe. He says I am romantic and of a loving
disposition. Also somwhat reckless, and he gave me good advice
about doing what my Familey consider for my good, at least until
I come out.

     But our talk was all to short, for a fat man with three
rings on came in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey
and soda. My blood turned cold, for fear some one I knew would
come in and see me sitting there in a drinking party.

     And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had
told the manager about the arangement I had made, and the
manager said "Bully" and raised his glass to drink to me I
looked across and there was mother's aunt, old Susan Paget,
sitting near, with the most awfull face I ever saw!

     I colapsed in my chair.

     Dear Dairy, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten
o'clock. And dress up like a Gentleman in hard luck," and his
saying: "Well, I hope I'm a Gentleman, and the hard luck's no
joke," and then I went away.

     And now, dear Dairy, I am in bed, and every time the
telephone rings I have a chill. And in between times I drink
ice-water and sneaze. How terrable a thing is Love.

     LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing.
Father is not home tonight and I cannot apeal to him. Susan
Paget said I was drinking to, and mother is having the vibrater
used on her spine. If I felt better I would run away.

     JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so
terrable.

     Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not
send in his card for fear father would refuse to see him. And
father thought, from his saying that he had come to ask for
somthing, and so on, that it was Adrian, and threw him out. He
ordered him out first, and Beresford refused to go, and they had
words, and then there was a fight. The Reporters got it, and it
is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought one in. It is
headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and the
doctor is with her.

     LATER: Adrian has disapeared. The manager has just called
up, and with shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went
to the mill a little after ten, and has not been seen since.

     It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It
is almost time now for the Matinee and no Adrian. What shall I
do?

     SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Dairy, I have the meazles. I am all
broken out, and look horible. But what is a sickness of the Body
compared to the agony of my Mind? Oh, dear Dairy, to think of
what has happened since last I saw your stainless Pages!

     What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken
while trying to help another who did not deserve to be helped.
But if he decieved me, he has paid for it, and did until he was
rescued at ten o'clock tonight.

     I have been given a sleeping medacine, and until it takes
affect I shall write out the tradgedy of this day, omiting
nothing. The trained nurse is asleep on a cot, and her cap is
hanging on the foot of the bed.

     I have tried it on, dear Dairy, and it is very becoming. If
they insist on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a
trained nurse. It is easy work, although sleeping on a cot is
not always comfortible. But at least a trained nurse leads her
own Life and is not bully-ed by her Familey. And more, she does
good constantly.

     I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the
sick, and perhaps go to the Front. I know a lot of college men
in the American Ambulence.

     I shall never go on the stage, dear Dairy. I know now its
decietfullness and visisitudes. My heart has bled until it can
bleed no more, as a result of a theatricle Adonis. I am through
with the theater forever.

     I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had
disapeared.

     Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red
color in my mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that
somthing had slipped, and I must find Adrian. (It is strange
with what coldness I write that once beloved name.)

     While dressing I percieved that my chest and arms were
covered with small red dots, but I had no time to think of
myself. I sliped downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard
mother conversing in a loud and angry tone with a visitor. I
glansed in, and ye gods!

     It was the Adventuress.

     Drawing somwhat back, I listened. Oh, Dairy, what a
revalation!

     "But I _must_ see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In
a half hour the performance begins, and--he cannot be found."

     "I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff maner. "What
can my daughter Barbara know about him?"

     The Adventuress snifed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, all
right. And I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the
house."

     "Certainly she is in the house," said mother.

     "_Are you sure of that_? Because I have every reason to
beleive she has run away with him. She has been hanging around
him all week, and only yesterday afternoon I found them
together. She had some sort of a Skeme, he said afterwards, and
he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last night. He said it was
to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing further of your
daughter's Skeme. But I know he went out to meet her. He has not
been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours."

     "Just a moment," said mother, in a fridgid tone. "Am I to
understand that this--this Mr. Egleston is----"

     "He is my Husband."

     Ah, dear Dairy, that I might then and there have passed
away. But I did not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until
I felt strong enough to escape. Then I fled, like a Gilty Soul.
It was gastly.

     On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when
she saw my face, and then cluched me by the arm.

     "Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with
your complexion?"

     But I was desparate.

     "Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi
and let me go. Somthing horible has happened."

     She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I
rushed down the street, followed by her peircing gaze.

     Although realizing that my Life, at least the part of it
pertaining to sentament, was over, I knew that, single or
married, I must find him. I could not bare to think that I, in
my desire to help, had ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play.
Luckaly I got a taxi at the corner, and I ordered it to drive to
the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot persparation, and on
consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty five minutes
until the curtain went up.

     I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment
that I doubted my own father, who can be very feirce on ocasion.
What if, madened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on
being aproached by Adrian, been driven to violance? What if, in
my endeaver to help one who was unworthy, I had led my poor
paternal parent into crime?

            _Hell is paved with good intentions_.

                                      SAMUEL JOHNSTON.

     On driving madly into the mill yard, I sudenly remembered
that it was Saturday and a half holaday. The mill was going, but
the offices were closed. Father, then, was imured in the safety
of his Club, and could not be reached except by pay telephone.
And the taxi was now ninty cents.

     I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer,
and was very thirsty, so I went to the hydrent in the yard and
got a drink of water. I did not as yet suspect meazles, but laid
it all to my agony of mind.

     Haveing thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the
yard Policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at
school most of the time, and the Familey is not expected to
visit the mill, because of dirt and possable accidents.

     I aproached him, however, and he stood still and stared at
me.

     "Officer" I said, in my most dignafied tones. "I am looking
for a--for a Gentleman who came here this morning to look for
work."

     "There was about two hundred lined up here this morning,
Miss," he said. "Which one would it be, now?"

     How my heart sank!

     "About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have
been kind of mixed-up around here today, owing to a little
trouble this morning. But perhaps I'll remember him."

     But, although Adrian is of an unusual tipe, I felt that I
could not describe him, besides having a terrable headache. So
I asked if he would lend me carfare, which he did with a strange
look.

     "You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I
could not stay to converce, as it was then time for the curtain
to go up, and still no Adrian.

     I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I
fled on the wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his
advertizing office like a furey.

     "Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your
plotting hidden him?"

     "Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid maner. "He is at his
hotel, I beleive, putting beefstake on a bad eye. Beleive me,
Bab----"

     "Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wrechedness. "What is he
to me? Or his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time
for the curtain to go up now, and unless he has by this time
returned, there can be no performence."

     "Look here," Carter said sudenly, "you look awfuly queer,
Bab. Your face----"

     I stamped my foot.

     "What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care
for him, but I have ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play unless
he turns up. Am I to be sent to Switzerland with that on my
Soul?"

     "Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going
to do that, are they? I--I don't want you so far away."

     Dear Dairy, I am unsuspisious by nature, beleiving all
mankind to be my friends until proven otherwise. But there was
a gloating look in Carter Brooks' eyes as they turned on me.

     "Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not
tell me. You _wish_ to ruin him."

     I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away.

     "Look here," he said. "I'll tell you somthing, but please
keep back. Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the
mill this morning. I do not know anything about your
Actor-friend. He's probably only been run over or somthing. But
I saw Beresford going in, and I--well, I sugested that he'd
better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in. It worked,
Bab. _How it did work_! He went in and said he had come to ask
your father for somthing, and your father blew up by saying that
he knew about it, but that the world only owed a living to the
man who would hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to
take any one he did not want.

     "And in to minutes Beresford hit him, and got a responce.
It was a Million dollars worth."

     So he babbled on. But what were his words to me?

     Dear Dairy, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had
mentioned, although fatle to the complexion. Or to the fight at
the mill. I heard only Adrian's possable tradgic fate. Sudenly
I colapsed, and asked for a drink of water, feeling horible,
very wobbley and unable to keep my knees from bending.

     And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and
Adrian's fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I
had a warm sponge to bring out the rest of the rash, folowed by
a sleep--it being meazles and not smallpox.

     Oh, dear Dairy, what a story I learned when haveing wakened
and feeling better, my father came tonight and talked to me from
the doorway, not being allowed in.

     Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, haveing thrown
Beresford out and asserted his principals, had not thrown him
out, _but had given him a job in the mill_. And the Policeman
had given him no chance to escape, which he atempted. He was
dragged to the shell plant and there locked in, because of
spies. The plant is under Milatary Guard.

     _And there he had been compeled to drag a Wheelbarrow back
and forth, containing charcoal for a small furnase, for hours_!     Even when Carter found him he could not be releaced, as
father was in hiding from Reporters, and would not go to the
telephone or see callers.

     _He labored until ten P. M_., while the theater remained
dark, and people got their money back.

     I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's
couzin.

                       *     *     *

     The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospitle.
My career is ended, my Life is blasted.

     I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him
who today I have ruined, compeling him to do manual labor for
hours, although unacustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I
beleive has a future. But my love for him is dead. Dear Dairy,
he decieved me, and that is one thing I cannot forgive.

     So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps,
and I reflect about many Things. But one speach rings in my ears
over and over.

     Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a
strange maner, looking at me with inscrutible eyes.

     "Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far
away."

     _What did he mean by it_?

                           *     *     *

     Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I darsay. Perhaps
it is as well. I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t----

CHAPTER IV

BAB'S BURGLAR

MONEY is the root of all Evil."

     I do not know who said the above famous words, but they are
true. I know it but to well. For had I never gone on an
Allowence, and been in debt and always worried about the way
silk stockings wear out, et cetera, I would be having a much
better time. For who can realy enjoy a dress when it is not paid
for or only partialy so?

     I have decided to write out this story, which is true in
every particuler, except here and there the exact words of
conversation, and then sell it to a Magazine. I intend to do
this for to reasons. First, because I am in Debt, especialy for
to tires, and second, because parents will then read it, and
learn that it is not possable to make a good appearence,
including furs, theater tickets and underwear, for a Thousand
Dollars a year, even if one wears plain uncouth things beneath.
I think this, too. My mother does not know how much clothes and
other things, such as manacuring, cost these days. She merely
charges things and my father gets the bills. Nor do I consider
it fair to expect me to atend Social Functions and present a
good appearence on a small Allowence, when I would often prefer
a simple game of tennis or to lie in a hammick, or to converce
with some one I am interested in, of the Other Sex.

     It was mother who said a Thousand dollars a year and no
extras. But I must confess that to me, after ten dollars a month
at school, it seemed a large sum. I had but just returned for
the summer holadays, and the Familey was having a counsel about
me. They always have a counsel when I come home, and mother
makes a list, begining with the Dentist.

     "I should make it a Thousand," she said to father. "The
chiid is in shameful condition. She is never still, and she
fidgits right through her clothes."

     "Very well," said father, and got his Check Book. "That is
$83.33 1/3 cents a month. Make it thirty four cents. But no
bills, Barbara."

     "And no extras," my mother observed, in a stern tone.

     "Candy, tennis balls and matinee tickets?" I asked.

     "All included," said father. "And Church collection also,
and ice cream and taxicabs and Xmas gifts."

     Although pretending to consider it small, I realy felt that
it was a large amount, and I was filled with joy when father
ordered a Check Book for me with my name on each Check. Ah, me!
How happy I was!

     I was two months younger then and possably childish in some
ways. For I remember that in my exhiliration I called up Jane
Raleigh the moment she got home. She came over, and I showed her
the book.

     "Bab!" she said. "A thousand dollars! Why, it is wealth."

     "It's not princly," I observed. "But it will do, Jane."

     We then went out and took a walk, and I treated her to a
Facial Masage, having one myself at the same time, having never
been able to aford it before.

     "It's Heavenley, Bab," Jane observed to me, through a hot
towle. "If I were you I should have one daily. Because after
all, what are features if the skin is poor?"

     We also had manacures, and as the young person was very
nice, I gave her a dollar. As I remarked to Jane, it had taken
all the lines out of my face, due to the Spring Term and
examinations. And as I put on my hat, I could see that it had
done somthing else. For the first time my face showed Character.
I looked mature, if not, indeed, even more.

     I paid by a Check, although they did not care about taking
it, prefering cash. But on calling up the Bank accepted it, and
also another check for cold cream, and a fancy comb.

     I had, as I have stated, just returned from my Institution
of Learning, and now, as Jane and I proceded to a tea place I
had often viewed with hungry eyes but no money to spend, it
being expencive, I suddenly said:

     "Jane, do you ever think how ungrateful we are to those who
cherish us through the school year and who, although stern at
times, are realy our Best Friends?"

     "Cherish us!" said Jane. "I haven't noticed any cherishing.
They tolarate me, and hardly that."

     "I fear you are pessamistic," I said, reproving her but
mildly, for Jane's school is well known to be harsh and
uncompromizing. "However, my own feelings to my Instructers are
diferent and quite friendly, especialy at a distance. I shall
send them flowers."

     It was rather awful, however, after I had got inside the
shop, to find that violets, which I had set my heart on as being
the school flour, were five dollars a hundred. Also there were
more teachers than I had considered, some of them making but
small impression on account of mildness.

     _There were eight_.

     "Jane!" I said, in desparation. "Eight without the
housekeeper! And she must be remembered because if not she will
be most unpleasant next fall, and swipe my chaffing dish. Forty
five dollars is a lot of Money."

     "You only have to do it once," said Jane, who could aford
to be calm, as it was costing her nothing.

     However, I sent the violets aud paid with a check. I felt
better by subtracting the amount from one thousand. I had still
$945.00, less the facials and so on, which had been ten.

     This is not a finantial story, although turning on Money.
I do not wish to be considered as thinking only of Wealth.
Indeed, I have always considered that where my heart was in
question I would always decide for Love and penury rather than
a Castle and greed. In this I differ from my sister Leila, who
says that under no circumstanses would she ever inspect a
refrigerater to see if the cook was wasting anything.

     I was not worried about the violets, as I consider Money
spent as but water over a damn, and no use worrying about. But
I was no longer hungry, and I observed this to Jane.

     "Oh, come on," she said, in an impatient maner. "I'll pay
for it."

     I can read Jane's inmost thoughts, and I read them then.
She considered that I had cold feet financially, although with
almost $945.00 in the bank. Therefore I said at once:

     "Don't be silly. It is my party. And we'll take some candy
home."

     However, I need not have worried, for we met Tommy Gray in
the tea shop, and he paid for everything.

     I pause here to reflect. How strange to look back, and
think of all that has since hapened, and that I then considered
that Tommy Gray was interested in Jane and never gave me a
thought. Also that I considered that the look he gave me now and
then was but a friendly glanse! Is it not strange that Romanse
comes thus into our lives, through the medium of a tea-cup, or
an eclair, unheralded and unsung, yet leaving us never the same
again?

     Even when Tommy bought us candy and carried mine under his
arm while leaving Jane to get her own from the counter, I
suspected nothing. But when he said to me, "Gee, Bab, you're
geting to be a regular Person," and made no such remark to Jane,
I felt that it was rather pointed.

     Also, on walking up the Avenue, he certainly walked nearer
me than Jane. I beleive she felt it, to, for she made a sharp
speach or to about his Youth, and what he meant to do when he
got big. And he replied by saying that she was big enough
allready, which hurt because Jane is plump and will eat starches
anyhow.

     Tommy Gray had improved a great deal since Xmas. He had at
that time apeared to long for his head. I said this to Jane,
_soto voce_, while he was looking at some neckties in a window.

     "Well, his head is big enough now," she said in a snapish
maner. "It isn't very long, Bab, since you considered him a mere
Child."

     "He is twenty," I asserted, being one to stand up for my
friends under any and all circumstanses.

     Jane snifed.

     "Twenty!" she exclaimed. "He's not eighteen yet. His very
noze is imature."

     Our discourse was interupted by the object of it, who
requested an opinion on the ties. He ignored Jane entirely.

     We went in, and I purchaced a handsome tie for father,
considering it but right thus to show my apreciation of his
giving me the Allowence.

     It was seventy five cents, and I made out a check for the
amount and took the tie with me. We left Jane soon after, as she
insisted on adressing Tommy as dear child, or "_mon enfant_,"
and strolled on together, oblivious to the World, by the World
forgot. Our conversation was largely about ourselves, Tommv
maintaining that I gave an impression of fridgidity, and that
all the College men considered me so.

     "Better fridgidity," I retorted, "than softness. But I am
sincere. I stick to my friends through thick and thin."

     Here he observed that my Chin was romantic, but that my
Ears were stingy, being small and close to my head. This
irratated me, although glad they are small. So I bought him a
gardenia to wear from a flour-seller, but as the flour-seller
refused a check, he had to pay for it.

     In exchange he gave me his Frat pin to wear.

     "You know what that means, don't you, Bab?" he said, in a
low and thriling tone. "It means, if you wear it, that you are
my--well, you're my girl."

     Although thriled, I still retained my practacality.

     "Not exclusively, Tom," I said, in a firm tone. "We are
both young, and know little of Life. Some time, but not as yet."

     He looked at me with a searching glanse.

     "I'll bet you have a couple of dozen Frat pins lying
around, Bab," he said savigely. "You're that sort. All the
fellows are sure to be crasy about you. And I don't intend to be
an Also-ran."

     "Perhaps," I observed, in my most dignafied maner. "But no
one has ever tried to bully me before. I may be young, but the
Other Sex have always treated me with respect."

     I then walked up the steps and into my home, leaving him on
the pavment. It was cruel, but I felt that it was best to start
right.

     But I was troubled and _distrait_ during dinner, which
consisted of mutton and custard, which have no appeal for me
owing to having them to often at school. For I had, although not
telling an untruth, allowed Tom to think that I had a dozen or
so Frat pins, although I had none at all.

     Still, I reflected, why not? Is it not the only way a woman
can do when in conflict with the Other Sex, to meet Wile with
Gile? In other words, to use her intellagence against brute
force? I fear so.

     Men do not expect truth from us, so why disapoint them?

     During the salid mother inquired what I had done during the
afternoon.

     "I made a few purchaces," I said.

     "I hope you bought some stockings and underclothes," she
observed. "Hannah cannot mend your chemises any more, and as for
your----"

     "Mother!" I said, turning scarlet, for George--who was the
Butler, as Tanney had been found kissing Jane--was at that
moment bringing in the cheeze.

     "I am not going to interfere with your Allowence," she went
on. "But I recall very distinctly that during Leila's first year
she came home with three evening wraps and one nightgown, having
to borrow from one of her schoolmates, while that was being
washed. I feel that you should at least be warned."

     How could I then state that instead of bying nightgowns, et
cetera, I had been sending violets? I could not. If Life to my
Familey was a matter of petticoats, and to me was a matter of
fragrant flours, why cause them to suffer by pointing out the
diference?

     I did not feel superior. Only diferent.

     That evening, while mother and Leila were out at a
Festivaty, I gave father his neck-tie. He was overcome with joy
and for a moment could not speak. Then he said:

     "Good gracious, Bab! What a--what a _diferent_ necktie."

     I explained my reasons for buying it for him, and also Tom
Gray's objecting to it as to juvenile.

     "Young impudense!" said father, refering to Tom. "I darsay
I am quite an old fellow to him. Tie it for me, Bab."

     "Though old of body, you are young in mentalaty," I said.
But he only laughed, and then asked about the pin, which I wore
over my heart.

     "Where did you get that?" he asked in quite a feirce voice.

     I told him, but not quite all. It was the first time I had
concealed an _amour_ from my parents, having indeed had but few,
and I felt wicked and clandestine. But, alas, it is the way of
the heart to conceal its deepest feelings, save for blushes,
which are beyond bodily control.

     My father, however, mearly sighed and observed:

     "So it has come at last!"

     "What has come at last?" I asked, but feeling that he meant
Love. For although forty-two and not what he once was, he still
remembers his Youth.

     But he refused to anser, and inquired politely if I felt to
much grown-up, with the Allowence and so on, to be held on knees
and occasionaly tickeled, as in other days.

     Which I did not.

     That night I stood at the window of my Chamber and gazed
with a heaving heart at the Gray residense, which is next door.
Often before I had gazed at its walls, and considered them but
brick and morter, and needing paint. Now my emotions were
diferent. I realized that a House is but a shell, covering and
protecting its precious contents from weather and curious eyes,
et cetera.

     As I stood there, I percieved a light in an upper window,
where the nursery had once been in which Tom--in those days when
a child, Tommy--and I had played as children, he frequently
pulling my hair and never thinking of what was to be. As I
gazed, I saw a figure come to the window and gaze fixedly at me.
_It was he_.

     Hannah was in my room, making a list of six of everything
which I needed, so I dared not call out. But we exchanged
gestures of afection and trust across the void, and with a
beating heart I retired to bed.

     Before I slept, however, I put to myself this question, but
found no anser to it. How can it be that two people of Diferent
Sexes can know each other well, such as calling by first names
and dancing together at dancing school, and going to the same
dentist, and so on, and have no interest in each other except to
have a partner at parties or make up a set at tennis? And then
nothing happens, but there is a diference, and they are always
hoping to meet on the street or elsewhere, and although
quareling sometimes when together, are not happy when apart! How
strange is Life!

     Hannah staid in my room that evening, fussing about my not
hanging up my garments when undressing. As she has lived with us
for a long time, and used to take me for walks when Mademoiselle
had the toothache, which was often, because she hated to walk,
she knows most of the Familey affairs, and is sometimes a
nusance.

     So, while I said my prayers, she looked in my Check Book.
I was furious, and snached it from her, but she had allready
seen to much.

     "Humph!" she said. "Well, all I've got to say is this, Miss
Bab. You'll last just twenty days at the rate you are going, and
will have to go stark naked all year."

     At this indelacate speach I ordered her out of the room,
but she only tucked the covers in and asked me if I had brushed
my teeth.

     "You know," she said, "that you'll be coming to me for
money when you run out, Miss Bab, as you've always done, and
expecting me to patch and mend and make over your old things,
when I've got my hands full anyhow. And you with a Fortune
fritered away."

     "I wish to think, Hannah," I said in a plaintive tone.
"Please go away."

     But she came and stood over me.

     "Now you're going to be a good girl this Summer and not
give any trouble, aren't you?" she asked. "Because we're upset
enough as it is, and your poor mother most distracted, without
you're cutting loose as usual and driving everybody crazy."

     I sat up in bed, forgetful that the window was now open for
the night, and that I was visable from the Gray's in my _robe de
nuit_.

     "Whose distracted about what?" I asked.

     But Hannah would say no more, and left me a pray to doubt
and fear.

     Alas, Hannah was right. There was something wrong in the
house. Coming home as I had done, full of the joy of no rising
bell or French grammar, or meat pie on Mondays from Sunday's
roast, I had noticed nothing.

     I fear I am one who lives for the Day only, and as such I
beleive that when people smile they are happy, forgetfull that
to often a smile conceals an aching and tempestuous Void within.

     Now I was to learn that the demon Strife had entered my
domacile, there to make his--or her--home. I do not agree with
that poet, A. J. Ryan, date forgoten, who observed:

           _Better a day of strife_

           _Than a Century of sleep_.

     Although naturaly no one wishes to sleep for a Century, or
even approxamately.

     There was Strife in the house. The first way I noticed it,
aside from Hannah's anonamous remark, was by observing that
Leila was mopeing. She acted very strangely, giving me a pair of
pink hoze without more than a hint on my part, and not sending
me out of the room when Carter Brooks came in to tea the next
day.

     I had staid at home, fearing that if I went out I should
purchace some _crepe de chene_ combinations I had been craving
in a window, and besides thinking it possable that Tom would
drop in to renew our relations of yesterday, not remembering
that there was a Ball Game.

     Mother having gone out to the Country Club, I put my hair
on top of my head, thus looking as adult as possable. Taking a
new detective story of Jane's under my arm, I descended the
staircase to the library.

     Sis was there, curled up in a chair, knitting for the
soldiers. Having forgoten the Ball Game, as I have stated, I
asked her, in case I had a caller, to go away, which,
considering she has the house to herself all winter, I
considered not to much.

     "A caller!" she said. "Since when have you been allowed to
have callers?"

     I looked at her steadily.

     "I am young," I observed, "and still in the school room,
Leila. I admit it, so don't argue. But as I have not taken the
veil, and as this is not a Penitentary, I darsav I can see my
friends now and anon, especialy when they live next door."

     "Oh!" she said. "It's the Gray infant, is it!"

     This remark being purely spiteful, I ignored it and sat
down to my book, which concerned the stealing of some famous
Emerelds, the heroine being a girl detective who could shoot the
cork out of a bottle at a great distance, and whose name was
Barbara!

     It was for that reason Jane had loaned me the book.

     I had reached the place where the Duchess wore the Emerelds
to a ball, above white satin and lillies, the girl detective
being dressed as a man and driving her there, because the
Duchess had been warned and hautily refused to wear the paste
copies she had--when Sis said, peavishly:

     "Why don't you knit or do somthing useful, Bab?"

     I do not mind being picked on by my parents or teachers,
knowing it is for my own good. But I draw the line at Leila. So
I replied:

     "Knit! If that's the scarf you were on at Christmas, and it
looks like it, because there's the crooked place you wouldn't
fix, let me tell you that since then I have made three socks,
heals and all, and they are probably now on the feet of the
Allies."

     "Three!" she said. "Why _three_?"

     "I had no more wool, and there are plenty of one-leged men
anyhow."

     I would fane have returned to my book, dreaming between
lines, as it were, of the Romanse which had come into my life
the day before. It is, I have learned, much more interesting to
read a book when one has, or is, experiencing the Tender Passion
at the time. For during the love seens one can then fancy that
the impasioned speaches are being made to oneself, by the object
of one's afection. In short, one becomes, even if but a time,
the Heroine.

     But I was to have no privacy.

     "Bab," Sis said, in a more mild and fraternal tone, "I want
you to do somthing for me."

     "Why don't you go and get it yourself?" I said. "Or ring
for George?"

     "I don't want you to get anything. I want you to go to
father and mother for somthing."

     "I'd stand a fine chance to get it!" I said. "Unless it's
Calomel or advice."

     Although not suspicous by nature, I now looked at her and
saw why I had recieved the pink hoze. It was not kindness. It
was bribery!

     "It's this," she explained. "The house we had last year at
the seashore is emty and we can have it. But mother won't go.
She--well, she won't go. They're going to open the country house
and stay there."

     A few days previously this would have been sad news for me,
owing to not being allowed to go to the Country Club except in
the mornings, and no chance to meet any new people, and no
bathing save in the usual tub. But now I thriled at the
information, because the Grays have a place near the Club also.

     For a moment I closed my eyes and saw myself, all in white
and decked with flours, wandering through the meadows and on the
links with a certain Person whose name I need not write, having
allready related my feelings toward him.

     I am older now by some weeks, older and sader and wiser.
For Tradgedy has crept into my life, so that somtimes I wonder
if it is worth while to live on and suffer, especialy without an
Allowence, and being again obliged to suplicate for the smallest
things.

     But I am being brave. And, as Carter Brooks wrote me in a
recent letter, acompanying a box of candy:

     "After all, Bab, you did your durndest. And if they do not
understand, I do, and I'm proud of you. As for being `blited,'
as per your note to me, remember that I am, also. Why not be
blited together?"

     This latter, of course, is not serious, as he is eight
years older than I, and even fills in at middle-aged Dinners,
being handsome and dressing well, although poor.

     Sis's remarks were interupted by the clamor of the door
bell. I placed a shaking hand over the Frat pin, beneath which
my heart was beating only for _him_. And waited.

     What was my dispair to find it but Carter Brooks!

     Now there had been a time when to have Carter Brooks sit
beside me, as now, and treat me as fully out in Society, would
have thriled me to the core. But that day had gone. I realized
that he was not only to old, but to flirtatous. He was one who
would not look on a woman's Love as precious, but as a
plaything.

     "Barbara," he said to me. "I do not beleive that Sister is
glad to see me."

     "I don't have to look at you," Sis said, "I can knit."

     "Tell me, Barbara," he said to me beseachingly, "am I as
hard to look at as all that?"

     "I rather like looking at you," I rejoined with cander.
"Across the room."

     He said we were not as agreable as we might be, so he
picked up a magazine and looked at the Automobile advertizments.

     "I can't aford a car," he said. "Don't listen to me, either
of you. I'm only talking to myself. But I like to read the ads.
Hello, here's a snappy one for five hundred and fifty. Let me
see. If I gave up a couple of Clubs, and smokeing, and flours to
_Debutantes_--except Barbara, because I intend to buy every pozy
in town when she comes out--I might----"

     "Carter," I said, "will you let me see that ad?"

     Now the reason I had asked for it was this: in the book the
Girl Detective had a small but powerful car, and she could do
anything with it, even going up the Court House steps once in it
and interupting a trial at the criticle moment.

     But I did not, at that time, expect to more than wish for
such a vehical. How pleasant, my heart said, to have a car
holding to, and since there was to be no bathing, et cetera, and
I was not allowed a horse in the country, except my old pony and
the basket faeton, to ramble through the lanes with a choice
Spirit, and talk about ourselves mostly, with a sprinkling of
other subjects!

     Five hundred and fifty from nine hundred and forty-five
leaves three hundred and forty-five. But I need few garments at
school, wearing mostly unaforms of blue serge with one party
frock for Friday nights and receptions to Lecturers and Members
of the Board. And besides, to own a machine would mean less
carfare and no shoes to speak of, because of not walking.

     Jane Raleigh came in about then and I took her upstairs and
closed the door.

     "Jane," I said, "I want your advise. And be honest, because
it's a serious matter."

     "If it's Tommy Gray," she said, in a contemptable manner,
"don't."

     How could I know, as revealed later, that Jane had gone on
a Diet since yesterday, owing to a certain remark, and had had
nothing but an apple all day? I could not. I therfore stared at
her steadily and observed:

     "I shall never ask for advise in matters of the Heart.
There I draw the line."

     However, she had seen some caromels on my table, and
suddenly burst into emotion. I was worried, not knowing the
trouble and fearing that Jane was in love with Tom. It was a
terrable thought, for which should I do? Hold on to him and let
her suffer, or remember our long years of intimacy and give him
up to her?

     Should I or should I not remove his Frat pin?

     However, I was not called upon to renunciate anything. In
the midst of my dispair Jane asked for a Sandwitch and thus
releived my mind. I got her some cake and a bottle of cream from
the pantrey and she became more normle. She swore she had never
cared for Tom, he being not her style, as she had never loved
any one who had not black eyes.

     "Nothing else matters, Bab," she said, holding out the
Sandwitch in a dramatic way. "I see but his eyes. If they are
black, they go through me like a knife."

     "Blue eyes are true eyes," I observed.

     "There is somthing feirce about black eyes," she said,
finishing the cream. "I feel this way. One cannot tell what
black eyes are thinking. They are a mystery, and as such they
atract me. Almost all murderers have black eyes."

     "Jane!" I exclaimed.

     "They mean passion," she muzed. "They are _strong_ eyes.
Did you ever see a black-eyed man with glasses? Never. Bab, are
you engaged to Tom?"

     "Practicaly."

     I saw that she wished details, but I am not that sort. I am
not the kind to repeat what has been said to me in the emotion
of Love. I am one to bury sentament deep in my heart, and have
therfore the reputation of being cold and indiferent. But better
that than having the Male Sex afraid to tell me how I effect
them for fear of it being repeated to other girls, as some do.

     "Of course it cannot be soon, if at all," I said. "He has
three more years of College, and as you know, here they regard
me as a child."

     "You have your own income."

     That reminded me of the reason for my having sought the
privasy of my Chamber. I said:

     "Jane, I am thinking of buying an automobile. Not a
Limousine, but somthing styleish and fast. I must have Speed, if
nothing else."

     She stopped eating a caromel and gave me a stunned look.

     "What for?"

     "For emergencies."

     "Then they disaprove of him?" she said, in a low, tence
voice.

     "They know but little, although what they suspect--Jane,"
I said, my bitterness bursting out, "what am I now? Nothing. A
prisoner, or the equivalent of such, forbiden everything because
I am to young! My Soul hampered by being taken to the country
where there is nothing to do, given a pony cart, although but 2O
months younger than Leila, and not going to come out until she
is married, or permanently engaged."

     "It _is_ hard," said Jane. "Heart-breaking, Bab."

     We sat, in deep and speachless gloom. At last Jane said:

     "Has she anyone in sight?"

     "How do I know? They keep me away at School all year. I am
but a stranger here, although I try hard to be otherwise."

     "Because we might help along, if there is anyone. To get
her married is your only hope, Bab. They're afraid of you.
That's all. You're the tipe to atract Men, except your noze, and
you could help that by pulling it. My couzin did that, only she
did it to much, and made it pointed."

     I looked in my mirror and sighed. I have always desired an
aristocratic noze, but a noze cannot be altered like teeth,
unless broken and then generaly not improved.

     "I have tried a shell hair pin at night, but it falls off
when I go to sleep," I said, in a despondant manner.

     We sat for some time, eating caromels and thinking about
Leila, because there was nothing to do with my noze, but Leila
was diferent.

     "Although," Jane said, "you will never be able to live your
own Life until she is gone, Bab."

     "There is Carter Brooks," I suggested. "But he is poor. And
anyhow she is not in Love with him."

     "Leila is not one to care about Love," said Jane. "That
makes it eazier."

     "But whom?" I said. "Whom, Jane?"

     We thought and thought, but of course it was hard, for we
knew none of those who filled my sister's life, or sent her
flours and so on.

     At last I said:

     "There must be a way, Jane. _There must be_. And if not, I
shall make one. For I am desparate. The mere thought of going
back to school, when I am as old as at present and engaged also,
is madening."

     But Jane held out a warning hand.

     "Go slow, dearie," she said, in a solemn tone. "Do nothing
rash. Remember this, that she is your sister, and should be
hapily married if at all. Also she needs one with a strong hand
to control her. And such are not easy to find. You must not ruin
her Life."

     Considering the fatal truth of that, is it any wonder that,
on contemplateing the events that folowed, I am ready to cry,
with the great poet Hood: 1835-1874: whose numerous works we
studied during the spring term:

            _Alas, I have walked through life_

               _To heedless where I trod_;

            _Nay, helping to trampel my fellow worm_,

               _And fill the burial sod_.

                                  II

     If I were to write down all the surging thoughts that
filled my brain this would have to be a Novel instead of a Short
Story. And I am not one who beleives in beginning the life of
Letters with a long work. I think one should start with breif
Romanse. For is not Romanse itself but breif, the thing of an
hour, at least to the Other Sex?

     Women and girls, having no interest outside their hearts,
such as baseball and hockey and earning saleries, are more
likely to hug Romanse to their breasts, until it is finaly
drowned in their tears.

     I pass over the next few days, therfore, mearly stating
that my _affaire de couer_ went on rapidly, and that Leila was
sulkey _and had no Male visitors_. On the day after the Ball
Game Tom took me for a walk, and in a corner of the park, he
took my hand and held it for quite a while. He said he had never
been a hand-holder, but he guessed it was time to begin. Also he
remarked that my noze need not worry me, as it exactly suited my
face and nature.

     "How does it suit my nature?" I asked.

     "It's--well, it's cute."

     "I do not care about being cute, Tom," I said ernestly. "It
is a word I despize."

     "Cute means kissible, Bab!" he said, in an ardent manner.

     "I don't beleive in kissing."

     "Well," he observed, "there is kissing and kissing."

     But a nurse with a baby in a perambulater came along just
then and nothing happened worth recording. As soon as she had
passed, however, I mentioned that kissing was all right if one
was engaged, but not otherwise. And he said:

     "But we are, aren't we?"

     Although understood before, it had now come in full force.
I, who had been but Barbara Archibald before, was now engaged.
Could it be I who heard my voice saying, in a low tone, the
"yes" of Destiny? It was!

     We then went to the corner drug-store and had some soda,
although forbiden by my Familey because of city water being
used. How strange to me to recall that I had once thought the
Clerk nice-looking, and had even purchaced things there, such as
soap and chocolate, in order to speak a few words to him!

     I was engaged, dear Reader, but not yet kissed. Tom came
into our vestabule with me, and would doubtless have done so
when no one was passing, but that George opened the door
suddenly.

     However, what difference, when we had all the rest of our
Lives to kiss in? Or so I then considered.

     Carter Brooks came to dinner that night because his people
were out of town, and I think he noticed that I looked mature
and dignafied, for he stared at me a lot. And father said:

     "Bab, you're not eating. Is it possable that that boarding
school hollow of yours is filling up?"

     One's Familey is apt to translate one's finest Emotions
into terms of food and drink. Yet could I say that it was my
Heart and not my Stomache that was full? I could not.

     During dinner I looked at Leila and wondered how she could
be married off. For until so I would continue to be but a Child,
and not allowed to be engaged or anything. I thought if she
would eat some starches it would help, she being pretty but
thin. I therfore urged her to eat potatos and so on, because of
evening dress and showing her coller bones, but she was quite
nasty.

     "Eat your dinner," she said in an unfraternal maner, "and
stop watching me. They're _my_ bones."

     "I have no intention of being criticle," I said. "And they
are vour bones, although not a matter to brag about. But I was
only thinking, if you were fater and had a permanant wave put in
your hair, because one of the girls did and it hardly broke off
at all"

     She then got up and flung down her napkin.

     "Mother!" she said. "Am I to stand this sort of thing
indefinately? Because if I am I shall go to France and scrub
floors in a Hospitle."

     Well, I reflected, that would be almost as good as having
her get married. Besides being a good chance to marry over
there, the unaform being becoming to most, especialy of Leila's
tipe.

     That night, in the drawing room, while Sis sulked and
father was out and mother was ofering the cook more money to go
to the country, I said to Carter Brooks:

     "Why don't you stop hanging round, and make her marry you?"

     "I'd like to know what's running about in that mad head of
yours, Bab," he said. "Of course if you say so I'll try, but
don't count to much on it. I don't beleive she'll have me. But
why this unseemly haste?"

     So I told him, and he understood perfectly, although I did
not say that I had already plited my troth.

     "Of course," he said. "If that fails there is another
method of aranging things, although you may not care to have the
Funeral Baked Meats set fourth to grace the Marriage Table. If
she refuses me, we might become engaged. You and I."

     To proposals in one day. Ye gods!

     I was obliged therfore to tell him I was already engaged,
and he looked very queer, especialy when I told him to whom it
was.

     "Pup!" he said, in a manner which I excused because of his
natural feelings at being preceded. "And of course this is the
real thing?"

     "I am not one to change easily, Carter" I said. "When I
give I give freely. A thing like this, with me, is to Eternaty,
and even beyond."

     He is usualy most polite, but he got up then and said:

     "Well, I'm dammed."

     He went away soon after, and left Sis and me to sit alone,
not speaking, because when she is angry she will not speak to me
for days at a time. But I found a Magazine picture of a Duchess
in a nurse's dress and wearing a fringe, which is English for
bangs, and put it on her dressing table.

     I felt that this was subtile and would sink in.

     The next day Jane came around early.

     "There's a sail on down town, Bab," she said. "Don't you
want to begin laying away underclothes for your _Trouseau_? You
can't begin to soon, because it takes such a lot."

     I have no wish to reflect on Jane in this story. She meant
well. But she knew I had decided to buy an automobile, saying
nothing to the Familey until to late, when I had learned to
drive it and it could not be returned. Also she knew my Income,
which was not princly although suficient.

     But she urged me to take my Check Book and go to the sail.

     Now, if I have a weakness, it is for fine under things,
with ribbon of a pale pink and everything maching. Although I
spent but fifty-eight dollars and sixty-five cents on the
_Trouseau_ that day, I felt uneasy, especialy as, just
afterwards, I saw in a window a costume for a woman _chauffeur_,
belted lether coat and leggings, skirt and lether cap.

     I gave a check for it also, and on going home hid my Check
Book, as Hannah was always snooping around and watching how much
I spent. But luckaly we were packing for the country, and she
did not find it.

     During that evening I reflected about marrying Leila off,
as the Familey was having a dinner and I was sent a tray to my
Chamber, consisting of scrambeled eggs, baked potatos and
junket, which considering that I was engaged and even then
colecting my _Trouseau_, was to juvenile for words.

     I decided this: that Leila was my sister and therfore bound
to me by ties of Blood and Relationship. She must not be married
to anyone, therfore, whom she did not love or at least respect.
I would not doom her to be unhappy.

     Now I have a qualaty which is well known at school, and
frequently used to obtain holadays and so on. It may be
Magnatism, it may be Will. I have a very strong Will, having as
a child had a way of lying on the floor and kicking my feet if
thwarted. In school, by fixing my eyes ridgidly on the teacher,
I have been able to make her do as I wish, such as not calling
on me when unprepared, et cetera.

     Full well I know the danger of such a Power, unless used
for good.

     I now made up my mind to use this Will, or Magnatism, on
Leila, she being unsuspicious at the time and thinking that the
thought of Marriage was her own, and no one else's.

     Being still awake when the Familey came upstairs, I went
into her room and experamented while she was taking down her
hair.

     "Well?" she said at last. "You needn't stare like that. I
can't do my hair this way without a Swich."

     "I was merely thinking," I said in a lofty tone.

     "Then go and think in bed."

     "Does it or does it not concern you as to what I was
thinking?" I demanded.

     "It doesn't greatly concern me," she replied, wraping her
hair around a kid curler, "but I darsay I know what it was. It's
written all over you in letters a foot high. You'd like me to
get married and out of the way."

     I was exultent yet terrafied at this result of my
Experament. Already! I said to my wildly beating heart. And if
thus in five minutes what in the entire summer?

     On returning to my Chamber I spent a pleasant hour planing
my maid-of-honor gown, which I considered might be blue to mach
my eyes, with large pink hat and carrying pink flours.

     The next morning father and I breakfasted alone, and I said
to him:

     "In case of festivaty in the Familey, such as a Wedding, is
my Allowence to cover clothes and so on for it?"

     He put down his paper and searched me with a peircing
glanse. Although pleasant after ten A. M. he is not realy
paternal in the early morning, and when Mademoiselle was still
with us was quite hateful to her at times, asking her to be good
enough not to jabber French at him untill evening when he felt
stronger.

     "Whose Wedding?" he said.

     "Well," I said. "You've got to Daughters and we might as
well look ahead."

     "I intend to have to Daughters," he said, "for some time to
come. And while we're on the subject, Bab, I've got somthing to
say to you. Don't let that romantic head of yours get filled up
with Sweethearts, because you are still a little girl, with all
your airs. If I find any boys mooning around here, I'll--I'll
shoot them."

     Ye gods! How intracate my life was becoming! I engaged and
my masculine parent convercing in this homacidal manner! I
withdrew to my room and there, when Jane Raleigh came later,
told her the terrable news.

     "Only one thing is to be done, Jane," I said, my voice
shaking. "Tom must be warned."

     "Call him up," said Jane, "and tell him to keep away."

     But this I dare not do.

     "Who knows, Jane," I observed, in a forlorn manner, "but
that the telephone is watched? They must suspect. But how?
_How_?"

     Jane was indeed a _fidus A chates_. She went out to the
drug store and telephoned to Tom, being careful not to mention
my name, because of the clerk at the soda fountain listening,
saying merely to keep away from a Certain Person for a time as
it was dangerous. She then merely mentioned the word "revolver"
as meaning nothing to the clerk but a great deal to Tom. She
also aranged a meeting in the Park at 3 P. M. as being the hour
when father signed his mail before going to his Club to play
bridge untill dinner.

     Our meeting was a sad one. How could it be otherwise, when
to loving Hearts are forbiden to beat as one, or even to meet?
And when one or the other is constantly saying:

     "Turn your back. There is some one I know coming!"

     Or:

     "There's the Peters's nurse, and she's the worst talker you
ever heard of." And so on.

     At one time Tom would have been allowed to take out their
Roadster, but unfortunately he had been forbiden to do so, owing
to having upset it while taking his Grandmother Gray for an
airing, and was not to drive again until she could walk without
cruches.

     "Won't your people let you take out a car?" he asked.
"Every girl ought to know how to drive, in case of war or the
_chauffeur_ leaving----"

     "----or taking a Grandmother for an airing!" I said coldly.
Because I did not care to be criticized when engaged only a few
hours.

     However, after we had parted with mutual Protestations, I
felt the desire that every engaged person of the Femanine Sex
always feels, to apear perfect to the one she is engaged to. I
therfore considered whether to ask Smith to teach me to drive
one of our cars or to purchace one of my own, and be responsable
to no one if muddy, or arrested for speeding, or any other
Vicissatude.

     On the next day Jane and I looked at automobiles, starting
with ones I could not aford so as to clear the air, as Jane
said. At last we found one I could aford. Also its lining
matched my costume, being tan. It was but six hundred dollars,
having been more but turned in by a lady after three hundred
miles because she was of the kind that never learns to drive but
loses its head during an emergency and forgets how to stop, even
though a Human Life be in its path.

     The Salesman said that he could tell at a glanse that I was
not that sort, being calm in danger and not likly to chase a
chicken into a fense corner and murder it, as some do when
excited.

     Jane and I consulted, for buying a car is a serious matter
and not to be done lightly, especialy when one has not consulted
one's Familey and knows not where to keep the car when
purchaced. It is not like a dog, which I have once or twice kept
in a clandestine manner in the Garage, because of flees in the
house.

     "The trouble is," Jane said, "that if you don't take it
some one will, and you will have to get one that costs more."

     True indeed, I reflected, with my Check Book in my hand.

     Ah, would that some power had whispered in my ear "No. By
purchacing the above car you are endangering that which lies
near to your Heart and Mind. Be warned in time."

     But no sign came. No warning hand was outstretched to put
my Check Book back in my pocket book. I wrote the Check and
sealed my doom.

     How weak is human nature! It is terrable to remember the
rapture of that moment, and compare it with my condition now,
with no Allowence, with my faith gone and my heart in fragments.
And with, alas, another year of school.

     As we were going to the country in but a few days, I
aranged to leave my new Possesion, merely learning to drive it
meanwhile, and having my first lesson the next day.

     "Dearest," Jane said as we left. "I am thriled to the
depths. The way you do things is wonderfull. You have no fear,
none whatever. With your father's Revenge hanging over you, and
to secrets, you are calm. Perfectly calm."

     "I fear I am reckless, Jane," I said, wistfully. "I am not
brave. I am reckless, and also desparate."

     "You poor darling!" she said, in a broken voice. "When I
think of all you are suffering, and then see your smile, my
Heart aches for you."

     We then went in and had some ice cream soda, which I paid
for, Jane having nothing but a dollar, which she needed for a
manacure. I also bought a key ring for Tom, feeling that he
should have somthing of mine, a token, in exchange for the Frat
pin.

     I shall pass over lightly the following week, during which
the Familey was packing for the country and all the servants
were in a bad humer. In the mornings I took lessons driving the
car, which I called the Arab, from the well-known song, which we
have on the phonograph;

               _From the Dessert I come to thee_,

               _On my Arab shod with fire_.

     The instructer had not heard the song, but he said it was
a good name, because very likly no one else would think of
having it.

     "It sounds like a love song," he observed.

     "It is," I replied, and gave him a steady glanse. Because,
if one realy loves, it is silly to deny it.

     "Long ways to a Dessert, isn't it?" he inquired.

     "A Dessert may be a place, or it may be a thirsty and emty
place in the Soul," I replied. "In my case it is Soul, not
terratory."

     But I saw that he did not understand.

     How few there are who realy understand! How many of us, as
I, stand thirsty in the market place, holding out a cup for a
kind word or for some one who sees below the surface, and
recieve nothing but indiference!

     On Tuesday the Grays went to their country house, and Tom
came over to say good-bye. Jane had told him he could come, as
the Familey would be out.

     The thought of the coming seperation, although but for four
days, caused me deep greif. Although engaged for only a short
time, already I felt how it feels to know that in the vicinaty
is some one dearer than Life itself. I felt I must speak to some
one, so I observed to Hannah that I was most unhappy, but not to
ask me why. I was dressing at the time, and she was hooking me
up.

     "Unhappy!" she said, "with a thousand dollars a year, and
naturaly curly hair! You ought to be ashamed, Miss Bab."

     "What is money, or even hair?" I asked, "when one's Heart
aches?"

     "I guess it's your stomache and not your Heart," she said.
"With all the candy you eat. If you'd take a dose of magnezia
to-night, Miss Bab, with some orange juice to take the taste
away, you'd feel better right off."

     I fled from my chamber.

     I have frequently wondered how it would feel to be going
down a staircase, dressed in one's best frock, low neck and no
sleaves, to some loved one lurking below, preferably in evening
clothes, although not necesarily so. To move statuesqly and yet
tenderly, apearing indiferent but inwardly seathing, while below
pasionate eyes looked up as I floated down.

     However, Tom had not put on evening dress, his clothes
being all packed. He was taking one of father's cigars as I
entered the library, and he looked very tall and adolesent,
although thin. He turned and seeing me, observed:

     "Great Scott, Bab! Why the raiment?"

     "For you," I said in a low tone.

     "Well, it makes a hit with me all right," he said.

     And came toward me.

     When Jane Raleigh was first kissed by a member of the Other
Sex, while in a hammick, she said she hated to be kissed until
he did it, and then she liked it. I at the time had considered
Jane as flirtatous and as probably not hating it at all. But now
I knew she was right, for as I saw Tom coming toward me after
laying fatther's cigar on the piano, I felt that _I could not
bear it_.

     And this I must say, here and now. I do not like kissing.
Even then, in that first embrase of to, I was worried because I
could smell the varnish burning on the Piano. I therfore
permited but one salute on the cheek and no more before removing
the cigar, which had burned a large spot.

     "Look here," he said, in a stern manner, "are we engaged or
aren't we? Because I'd like to know."

     "If you are to demonstrative, no!" I replied, firmly.

     "If you call that a kiss, I don't."

     "It sounded like one," I said. "I suppose you know more
than I do what is a kiss and what is not. But I'll tell you
this--there is no use keeping our amatory affairs to ourselves
and then kissing so the Butler thinks the fire whistle is
blowing."

     We then sat down, and I gave him the key ring, which he
said was a dandy. I then told him about getting Sis married and
out of the way. He thought it was a good idea.

     "You'll never have a chance as long as she's around," he
observed, smoking father's cigar at intervals. "They're afraid
of you, and that's flat. It's your Eyes. That's what got me,
anyhow." He blue a smoke ring and sat back with his legs
crossed. "Funny, isn't it?" he said. "Here we are, snug as
weavils in a cotton thing-un-a-gig, and only a week ago there
was nothing between us but to brick walls. Hot in here, don't
you think?"

     "Only a week!" I said. "Tom, I've somthing to tell you.
That is the nice part of being engaged--to tell things that one
would otherwise bury in one's own Bosom. I shall have no secrets
from you from henceforward."

     So I told him about the car and how we could drive together
in it, and no one would know it was mine, although I would tell
the Familey later on, when to late to return it. He said little,
but looked at me and kept on smoking, and was not as excited as
I had expected, although interested.

     But in the midst of my Narative he rose quickly and
observed:

     "Bab, I'm poizoned!"

     I then perceived that he was pale and hagard. I rose to my
feet, and thinking it might be the cigar, I asked him if he
would care for a peice of chocolate cake to take the taste away.
But to my greif he refused very snappishly and without a
Farewell slamed out of the house, leaving his hat and so forth
in the hall.

     A bitter night ensued. For I shall admit that terrable
thoughts filled my mind, although how perpetrated I knew not.
Would those who loved me stoop to such depths as to poizon my
afianced? And if so, whom?

     The very thought was sickning.

     I told Jane the next morning, but she pretended to beleive
that the cigar had been to strong for him, and that I should
remember that, although very good-hearted, he was a mere child.
But, if poizon, she suggested Hannah.

     That day, although unerved from anxiety, I took the Arab
out alone, having only Jane with me. Except that once I got into
reverce instead of low geer, and broke a lamp on a Gentleman
behind, I had little or no trouble, although having one or to
narrow escapes owing to putting my foot on the gas throttle
instead of the brake.

     It was when being backed off the pavment by to Policemen
and a man from a milk wagon, after one of the aforsaid mistakes,
that I first saw he who was to bring such wrechedness to me.

     Jane had got out to see how much milk we had spilt--we had
struck the milk wagon--and I was getting out my check book,
because the man was very nasty and insisted on having my name,
when I first saw him. He had stopped and was looking at the
gutter, which was full of milk. Then he looked at me.

     "How much damages does he want?" he said in a respectful
tone.

     "Twenty dollars," I replied, not considering it flirting to
merely reply in this manner.

     The Stranger then walked over to the milkman and said:

     "A very little spilt milk goes a long way. Five dollars is
plenty for that and you know it."

     "How about me getting a stitch in my chin, and having to
pay for that?"

     I beleive I have not said that the milk man was cut in the
chin by a piece of a bottle.

     "Ten, then," said my friend in need.

     When it was all over, and I had given two dollars to the
old woman who had been in the milk wagon and was knocked out
although only bruized, I went on, thinking no more about the
Stranger, and almost running into my father, who did not see me.

     That afternoon I realized that I must face the state of
afairs, and I added up the Checks I had made out. Ye gods! Of
all my Money there now remaind for the ensuing year but two
hundred and twenty nine dollars and forty five cents.

     I now realized that I had been extravagant, having spent so
much in six days. Although I did not regard the Arab as such,
because of saving car fare and half soleing shoes. Nor the
_Trouseau_, as one must have clothing. But facial masage and
manacures and candy et cetera I felt had been wastefull.

     At dinner that night mother said:

     "Bab, you must get yourself some thin frocks. You have
absolutely nothing. And Hannah says you have bought nothing.
After all a thousand dollars is a thousand dollars. You can have
what you ought to have. Don't be to saving."

     "I have not the interest in clothes I once had, mother" I
replied. "If Leila will give me her old things I will use them."

     "Bab!" mother said, with a peircing glanse, "go upstairs
and bring down your Check Book."

     I turned pale with fright, but father said:

     "No, my dear. Suppose we let this thing work itself out. It
is Barbara's money, and she must learn."

     That night, when I was in bed and trying to divide $229.45
by 12 months, father came in and sat down on the bed.

     "There doesn't happen to be anything you want to say to me,
I suppose, Bab?" he inquired in a gentle tone.

     Although not a weeping person, shedding but few tears even
when punished in early years, his kind tone touched my Heart,
and made me lachrymoze. Such must always be the feelings of
those who decieve.

     But, although bent, I was not yet broken. I therfore wept
on in silence while father patted my back.

     "Because," he said, "while I am willing to wait until you
are ready, when things begin to get to thick I want you to know
that I'm around, the same as usual."

     He kissed the back of my neck, which was all that was
visable, and went to the door. From there he said, in a low
tone:

     "And by the way, Bab, I think, since you bought me the Tie,
it would be rather nice to get your mother somthing also. How
about it? Violets, you know, or--or somthing."

     Ye gods! Violets at five dollars a hundred. But I agreed.
I then sat up in bed and said:

     "Father, what would you say if you knew some one was
decieving you?"

     "Well," he said, "I am an old Bird and hard to decieve. A
good many people think they can do it, however, and now and then
some one gets away with it."

     I felt softened and repentent. Had he but patted me once
more, I would have told all. But he was looking for a match for
his cigar, and the opportunaty passed.

     "Well," he said, "close up that active brain of yours for
the night, Bab, and here are to `don'ts' to sleep on. Don't
break your neck in--in any way. You're a reckless young Lady.
And don't elope with the first moony young idiot who wants to
hold your hand. There will quite likly be others."

     Others! How heartless! How cynical! Were even those I love
best to worldly to understand a monogamous Nature?

     When he had gone out, I rose to hide my Check Book in the
crown of an old hat, away from Hannah. Then I went to the window
and glansed out. There was no moon, but the stars were there as
usual, over the roof of that emty domacile next door, whence all
life had fled to the neighborhood of the Country Club.

     But a strange thing caught my eye and transfixed it. There
on the street, looking up at our house, now in the first throes
of sleep, was the Stranger I had seen that afternoon when I had
upset the milk wagon against the Park fense.

                                  III

     I shall now remove the Familey to the country, which is
easier on paper than in the flesh, owing to having to take
china, silver, bedding and edables. Also porch furnature and so
on.

     Sis acted very queer while we were preparing. She sat in
her room and knited, and was not at home to Callers, although
there were not many owing to summer and every one away. When she
would let me in, which was not often, as she said I made her
head ache, I tried to turn her thoughts to marriage or to
nursing at the War, which was for her own good, since she is of
the kind who would never be happy leading a simple life, but
should be married.

     But alas for all my hopes. She said, on the day before we
left, while packing her jewel box:

     "You might just as well give up trying to get rid of me,
Barbara. Because I do not intend to marry any one."

     "Very well, Leila," I said, in a cold tone. "Of course it
matters not to me, because I can be kept in school untill I am
thirty, and never come out or have a good time, and no one will
care. But when you are an old woman and have not employed your
natural function of having children to suport you in Age, don't
say I did not warn you."

     "Oh, you'll come out all right," she said, in a brutal
manner. "You'll come out like a sky rocket. You'd be as
impossable to supress as a boil."

     Carter Brooks came around that afternoon and we played
marbels in the drawing room with moth balls, as the rug was up.
It was while sitting on the floor eating some candy he had
brought that I told him that there was no use hanging around, as
Leila was not going to marry. He took it bravely, and said that
he saw nothing to do but to wait for some of the younger crowd
to grow up, as the older ones had all refused him.

     "By the way," he said. "I thought I saw you running a car
the other day. You were chasing a fox terier when I saw you, but
I beleive the dog escaped."

     I looked at him and I saw that, although smiling, he was
one who could be trusted, even to the Grave.

     "Carter," I said. "It was I, although when you saw me I
know not, as dogs are always getting in the way."

     I then told him about the pony cart, and the Allowence, and
saving car fare. Also that I felt that I should have some
pleasure, even if _sub rosa_, as the expression is. But I told
him also that I disliked decieving my dear parents, who had
raised me from infancy and through meazles, whooping cough and
shingles.

     "Do you mean to say," he said in an astounded voice, "that
you have _bought_ that car?"

     "I have. And paid for it."

     Being surprized he put a moth ball into his mouth, instead
of a gum drop.

     "Well," he said, "you'll have to tell them. You can't hide
it in a closet, you know, or under the bed."

     "And let them take it away? Never."

     My tone was firm, and he saw that I meant it, especialy
when I explained that there would be nothing to do in the
country, as mother and Sis would play golf all day, and I was
not allowed at the Club, and that the Devil finds work for idle
hands.

     "But where in the name of good sense are you going to keep
it?" he inquired, in a wild tone.

     "I have been thinking about that," I said. "I may have to
buy a portible Garage and have it set up somwhere."

     "Look here," he said, "you give me a little time on this,
will you? I'm not naturaly a quick thinker, and somhow my brain
won't take it all in just yet. I suppose there's no use telling
you not to worry, because you are not the worrying kind."

     How little he knew of me, after years of calls and
conversation!

     Just before he left he said: "Bab, just a word of advise
for you. Pick your Husband, when the time comes, with care. He
ought to have the solidaty of an elephant and the mental agilaty
of a flee. But no imagination, or he'll die a lunatic."

     The next day he telephoned and said that he had found a
place for the car in the country, a shed on the Adams' place,
which was emty, as the Adams's were at Lakewood. So that was
fixed.

     Now my plan about the car was this: Not to go on
indefanitely decieving my parents, but to learn to drive the car
as an expert. Then, when they were about to say that I could not
have one as I would kill myself in the first few hours, to say:

     "You wrong me. I have bought a car, and driven it
for----days, and have killed no one, or injured any one beyond
bruizes and one stitch."

     I would then disapear down the drive, returning shortly in
the Arab, which, having been used----days, could not be returned.

     All would have gone as aranged had it not been for the
fatal question of Money.

     Owing to having run over some broken milk bottles on the
ocasion I have spoken of, I was obliged to buy a new tire at
thirty-five dollars. I also had a bill of eleven dollars for
gasoline, and a fine of ten dollars for speeding, which I paid
at once for fear of a Notice being sent home.

     This took fifty-six dollars more, and left me but $183.45
for the rest of the year, $15.28 a month to dress on and pay all
expences. To add to my troubles mother suddenly became very
fussy about my clothing and insisted that I purchace a new suit,
hat and so on, which cost one hundred dollars and left me on the
verge of penury.

     Is it surprizing that, becoming desparate, I seized at any
straw, however intangable?

     I paid a man five dollars to take the Arab to the country
and put it in the aforsaid shed, afterwards hiding the key under
a stone outside. But, although needing relaxation and pleasure
during those sad days, I did not at first take it out, as I felt
that another tire would ruin me.

     Besides, they had the Pony Cart brought every day, and I
had to take it out, pretending enjoyment I could not feel, since
acustomed to forty miles an hour and even more at times.

     I at first invited Tom to drive with me in the Cart,
thinking that merely to be together would be pleasure enough.
But at last I was compeled to face the truth. Although
protesting devotion until death, Tom did not care for the Cart,
considering it juvenile for a college man, and also to small for
his legs.

     But at last he aranged a plan, which was to take the Cart
as far as the shed, leave it there, and take out the car. This
we did frequently, and I taught Tom how to drive it.

     I am not one to cry over spilt milk. But I am one to
confess when I have made a mistake. I do not beleive in laying
the blame on Providence when it belongs to the Other Sex,
either.

     It was on going down to the shed one morning and finding a
lamp gone and another tire hanging in tatters that I learned the
Truth. He who should have guarded my interests with his very
Life, including finances, had been taking the Arab out in the
evenings when I was confined to the bosom of my Familey, and
using up gasoline et cetera besides riding with whom I knew not.

     Eighty-three dollars and 45 cents less thirty-five dollars
for a tire and a bill for gasoline in the village of eight
dollars left me, for the balance of the year, but $40.45 or
$3.37 a month! And still a lamp missing.

     It was terrable.

     I sat on the running board and would have shed tears had I
not been to angry.

     It was while sitting thus, and deciding to return the Frat
pin as costing to much in gasoline and patients, that I
percieved Tom coming down the road. His hand was tied up in a
bandige, and his whole apearance was of one who wishes to be
forgiven.

     Why, oh, why, must women of my Sex do all the forgiving?

     He stood in the doorway so I could see the bandige and
would be sorry for him. But I apeared not to notice him.

     "Well?" he said.

     I was silent.

     "Now look here," he went on, "I'm darned lucky to be here
and not dead, young lady. And if you are going to make a fuss,
I'm going away and join the Ambulance in France."

     "They'd better not let you drive a car if they care
anything about it," I said, coldly.

     "That's it! Go to it! Give me the Devil, of course. Why
should you care that I have a broken arm, or almost?"

     "Well," I said, in a cutting manner, "broken bones mend
themselves and do not have to be taken to a Garage, where they
charge by the hour and loaf most of the time. May I ask, if not
to much trouble to inform me, whom you took out in my car last
night? Because I'd like to send her your pin. I'd go on wearing
it, but it's to expencive."

     "Oh, very well," he said. He then brought out my key ring,
although unable to take the keys off because of having but one
hand. "If you're as touchy as all that, and don't care for the
real story, I'm through. That's all."

     I then began to feel remorceful. I am of a forgiving Nature
naturaly and could not forget that but yesterday he had been
tender and loving, and had let me drive almost half the time. I
therfore said:

     "If you can explain I will listen. But be breif. I am in no
mood for words."

     Well, the long and short of it was that I was wrong, and
should not have jumped to conclusions. Because the Gray's house
had been robbed the night before, taking all the silver and Mr.
Gray's dress suit, as well as shirts and so on, and as their
_chauffeur_ had taken one of the maids out _incognito_ and gone
over a bank, returning at seven A. M. in a hired hack, there was
no way to follow the theif. So Tom had taken my car and would
have caught him, having found Mr. Gray's trowsers on a fense,
although torn, but that he ran into a tree because of going very
fast and skiding.

     He would have gone through the wind-shield, but that it was
down.

     I was by that time mollafied and sorry I had been so angry,
especialy as Tom said:

     "Father ofered a hundred dollars reward for his capture,
and as you have been adviseing me to save money, I went after
the hundred."

     At this thought, that my _fiancee_ had endangered his hand
and the rest of his person in order to acquire money for our
ultamate marriage, my anger died.

     I therfore submitted to an embrase, and washed the car,
which was covered with mud. as Tom had but one hand and that
holding a cigarette.

     Now and then, Dear Reader, when not to much worried with
finances, I look back and recall those halycon days when Love
had its place in my life, filling it to the exclusion of even
suficient food, and rendering me immune to the questions of my
Familey, who wanted to know how I spent my time.

     Oh, magic eyes of afection, which see the beloved object as
containing all the virtues, including strong features and
intellagence! Oh, dear dead Dreams, when I saw myself going down
the church isle in white satin and Dutchess lace! O Tempora O
Mores! Farewell.

     What would have happened, I wonder, if father had not
discharged Smith that night for carrying passengers to the Club
from the railway station in our car, charging them fifty cents
each and scraching the varnish with golf clubs?

     I know not.

     But it gave me the idea that ultamately ruined my dearest
hopes. This was it. If Smith could get fifty cents each for
carrying passengers, why not I? I was unknown to most, having
been expatriated at School for several years. But also there
were to stations, one which the summer people used, and one
which was used by the so-called locals.

     I was desparate. Money I must have, whether honestly or
not, for mother had bought me some more things and sent me the
bill.

     "Because you will not do it yourself," she said. "And I
cannot have it said that we neglect you, Barbara."

     The bill was ninety dollars! Ye gods, were they determined
to ruin me?

     With me to think is to act. I am always like that. I
always, alas, feel that the thing I have thought of is right,
and there is no use arguing about it. This is well known in my
Institution of Learning, where I am called impetuus and even
rash.

     That night, my Familey being sunk in sweet slumber and
untroubled by finances, I made a large card which said: "For
Hire." I had at first made it "For Higher," but saw that this
was wrong and corected it. Although a natural speller, the best
of us make mistakes.

     I did not, the next day, confide in my betrothed, knowing
that he would object to my earning Money in any way, unless
perhaps in large amounts, such as the stock market, or, as at
present, in Literature. But being one to do as I make up my mind
to, I took the car to the station, and in three hours made one
dollar and a fifteen cent tip from the Gray's butler, who did
not know me as I wore large gogles.

     I was now embarked on a Commercial Enterprize, and happier
than for days. Although having one or to narrow escapes, such as
father getting off the train at my station instead of the other,
but luckily getting a cinder in his eye and unable to see until
I drove away quickly. And one day Carter Brooks got off and
found me changing a tire and very dusty and worried, because a
new tube cost five dollars and so far I had made but
six-fifteen.

     I did not know he was there until he said:

     "Step back and let me do that, Bab."

     He was all dressed, but very firm. So I let him and he
looked terrible when finished.

     "Now" he said at last, "jump in and take me somewhere near
the Club. And tell me how this happened."

     "I am a bankrupt, Carter," I responded in a broken tone. "I
have sold my birthright for a mess of porridge."

     "Good heavens!" he said. "You don't mean you've spent the
whole business?"

     I then got my Check Book from the tool chest, and held it
out to him. Also the unpaid bills. I had but $40.45 in the Bank
and owed $90.00 for the things mother had bought.

     "Everything has gone wrong," I admitted. "I love this car,
but it is as much expence as a large familey and does not get
better with age, as a familey does, which grows up and works or
gets married. And Leila is getting to be a Man-hater and acts
very strange most of the time."

     Here I almost wept, and probably would have, had he not
said:

     "Here! Stop that, Or I----" He stopped and then said: "How
about the engagement, Bab? Is it a failure to?"

     "We are still plited," I said. "Of course we do not agree
about some things, but the time to fuss is now, I darsay, and
not when to late, with perhaps a large familey and unable to
seperate."

     "What sort of things?"

     "Well," I said, "he thinks that he ought to play around
with other girls so no one will suspect, but he does not like it
when I so much as sit in a hammick with a member of the Other
Sex."

     "Bab," he said in an ernest tone, "that, in twenty words,
is the whole story of all the troubles between what you call the
Sexes. The only diference between Tommy Gray and me is that I
would not want to play around with any one else if--well, if
engaged to anyone like you. And I feel a lot like looking him up
and giving him a good thrashing."

     He paid me fifty cents and a quarter tip, and offered,
although poor, to lend me some Money. But I refused.

     "I have made my bed," I said, "and I shall occupy it,
Carter. I can have no companion in misfortune."

     It was that night that another house near the Club was
robed, and everything taken, including groceries and a case of
champane. The Summer People got together the next day at the
Club and offered a reward of two hundred dollars, and engaged a
night watchman with a motor-cycle, which I considered silly, as
one could hear him coming when to miles off, and any how he
spent most of the time taking the maids for rides, and broke an
arm for one of them.

     Jane spent the night with me, and being unable to sleep,
owing to dieting again and having an emty stomache, wakened me
at 2 A. M. and we went to the pantrey together. When going back
upstairs with some cake and canned pairs, we heard a door close
below. We both shreiked, and the Familey got up, but found no
one except Leila, who could not sleep and was out getting some
air. They were very unpleasant, but as Jane observed, families
have little or no gratitude.

     I come now to the Stranger again.

     On the next afternoon, while engaged in a few words with
the station hackman, who said I was taking his trade although
not needing the Money--which was a thing he could not possably
know--while he had a familey and a horse to feed, I saw the
Stranger of the milk wagon, et cetera, emerge from the
one-thirty five.

     He then looked at a piece of _mauve note paper_, and said:

     "How much to take me up the Greenfield Road?"

     "Where to?" I asked in a pre-emptory manner.

     He then looked at a piece of _mauve note paper_, and said:

     "To a big pine tree at the foot of Oak Hill. Do you know
the Place?"

     Did I know the Place? Had I not, as a child, rolled and
even turned summersalts down that hill? Was it not on my very
ancestrial acres? It was, indeed.

     Although suspicous at once, because of no address but a
pine tree, I said nothing, except merely:

     "Fifty cents."

     "Suppose we fix it like this," he suggested. "Fifty cents
for the trip and another fifty for going away at once and not
hanging around, and fifty more for forgetting me the moment you
leave?"

     I had until then worn my gogles, but removing them to wipe
my face, he stared, and then said:

     "And another fifty for not running into anything, including
milk wagons."

     I hesatated. To dollars was to dollars, but I have always
been honest, and above reproach. But what if he was the Theif,
and now about to survey my own Home with a view to entering it
clandestinely? Was I one to assist him under those
circumstanses?

     However, at that moment I remembered the Reward. With that
amount I could pay everything and start life over again, and
even purchace a few things I needed. For I was allready wearing
my _Trouseau_, having been unable to get any plain every-day
garments, and thus frequently obliged to change a tire in a
_crepe de chine_ petticoat, et cetera.

     I yeilded to the temptation. How could I know that I was
sewing my own destruction?

                                 IV

     Let us, dear reader, pass with brevaty over the next few
days. Even to write them is a repugnent task, for having set my
hand to the Plow, I am not one to do things half way and then
stop.

     Every day the Stranger came and gave me to dollars and I
took him to the back road on our place and left him there. And
every night, although weary unto death with washing the car,
carrying people, changeing tires and picking nails out of the
road which the hackman put there to make trouble, I but
pretended to slumber, and instead sat up in the library and kept
my terrable Vigil. For now I knew that he had dishonest designs
on the sacred interior of my home, and was but biding his time.

     The house having been closed for a long time, there were
mice everywhere, so that I sat on a table with my feet up.

     I got so that I fell asleep almost anywhere but
particularly at meals, and mother called in a doctor. He said I
needed exercise! Ye gods!

     Now I think this: if I were going to rob a house, or comit
any sort of Crime, I should do it and get it over, and not hang
around for days making up my mind. Besides keeping every one
tence with anxiety. It is like diving off a diving board for the
first time. The longer you stand there, the more afraid you get,
and the farther (further?) it seems to the water.

     At last, feeling I could stand no more, I said this to the
Stranger as he was paying me. He was so surprized that he
dropped a quarter in the road, and did not pick it up. I went
back for it later but some one else had found it.

     "Oh!" he said. "And all this time I've been beleiving that
you--well, no matter. So you think it's a mistake to delay to
long?"

     "I think when one has somthing Right or Wrong to do, and
that's for your conscience to decide, it's easier to do it
quickly."

     "I see," he said, in a thoughtfull manner. "Well, perhaps
you are right. Although I'm afraid you've been getting one fifty
cents you didn't earn."

     "I have never hung around," I retorted. "And no Archibald
is ever a sneak."

     "Archibald!" he said, getting very red. "Why, then you
are----"

     "It doesn't matter who I am," I said, and got into the car
and went away very fast, because I saw I had made a dreadfull
Slip and probably spoiled everything. It was not untill I was
putting the car up for the night that I saw I had gone off with
his overcoat I hung it on a nail and getting my revolver from
under a board, I went home, feeling that I had lost two hundred
dollars, and all because of Familey pride.

     How true that "pride goeth before a fall"!

     I have not yet explained about the revolver. I had bought
it from the gardner, having promised him ten dollars for it,
although not as yet paid for. And I had meant to learn to be an
expert, so that I could capture the Crimenal in question without
assistance, thus securing all the reward.

     But owing to nervousness the first day I had, while
practicing in the chicken yard, hit the Gardner in the pocket
and would have injured him severely had he not had his garden
scizzors in his pocket.

     He was very angry, and said he had a bruize the exact shape
of the scizzors on him, so I had had to give him the ten plus
five dollars more, which was all I had and left me stranded.

     I went to my domacile that evening in low spirits, which
were not improved by a conversation I had with Tom that night
after the Familey had gone out to a Club dance.

     He said that he did not like women and girls who did
things.

     "I like femanine girls," he said. "A fellow wants to be the
Oak and feel the Vine clinging to him."

     "I am afectionate," I said, "but not clinging. I cannot
change my Nature."

     "Just what do you mean by afectionate?" he asked, in a
stern voice. "Is it afectionate for you to sit over there and
not even let me hold your hand? If that's afection, give me
somthing else."

     Alas, it was but to true. When away from me I thought of
him tenderly, and of whether he was thinking of me. But when
with me I was diferent. I could not account for this, and it
troubled me. Because I felt this way. Romanse had come into my
life, but suppose I was incapable of loving, although loved?

     Why should I wish to be embrased, but become cold and
fridgid when about to be?

     "It's come to a Show-down, Bab," he said, ernestly. "Either
you love me or you don't. I'm darned if I know which."

     "Alas, I do not know" I said in a low and pitious voice. I
then buried my face in my hands, and tried to decide. But when
I looked up he was gone, and only the sad breese wailed around
me.

     I had expected that the Theif would take my hint and act
that night, if not scared off by learning that I belonged to the
object of his nefarius designs. But he did not come, and I was
wakened on the library table at 8 A. M. by George coming in to
open the windows.

     I was by that time looking pale and thin, and my father
said to me that morning, ere departing for the office:

     "Haven't anything you'd like to get off your chest, have
you, Bab?"

     I sighed deeply.

     "Father," I said, "do you think me cold? Or lacking in
afection?"

     "Certainly not."

     "Or one who does not know her own mind?"

     "Well," he observed, "those who have a great deal of mind
do not always know it all. Just as you think you know it some
new corner comes up that you didn't suspect and upsets
everything."

     "Am I femanine?" I then demanded, in an anxious manner.

     "Femanine! If you were any more so we couldn't bare it."

     I then inquired if he prefered the clinging Vine or the
independant tipe, which follows its head and not its instincts.
He said a man liked to be engaged to a clinging Vine, but that
after marriage a Vine got to be a darned nusance and took
everything while giving nothing, being the sort to prefer
chicken croquets to steak and so on, and wearing a boudoir cap
in bed in the mornings.

     He then kissed me and said:

     "Just a word of advise, Bab, from a parent who is, of
course, extremely old but has not forgoten his Youth entirely.
Don't try to make yourself over for each new Admirer who comes
along. Be yourself. If you want to do any making over, try it on
the boys. Most of them could stand it."

     That morning, after changing another tire and breaking
three finger nails, I remembered the overcoat and, putting aside
my scruples, went through the pockets. Although containing no
Burglar's tools, I found a _sketch of the lower floor of our
house, with a cross outside one of the library windows_!

     I was for a time greatly excited, but calmed myself, since
there was work to do. I felt that, as I was to capture him
unaided, I must make a Plan, which I did and which I shall tell
of later on.

     Alas, while thinking only of securing the Reward and of
getting Sis married, so that I would be able to be engaged and
enjoy it without worry as to Money, coming out and so on, my
Ship of Love was in the hands of the wicked, and about to be
utterly destroyed, or almost, the complete finish not coming
untill later. But

                      _'Tis better to have loved and lost_

                       _Than never to have loved at all_.

     This is the tradgic story. Tom had gone to the station,
feeling repentant probably, or perhaps wishing to drive the
Arab, and finding me not yet there, had conversed with the
hackman. And that person, for whom I have nothing but contempt
and scorn, had observed to him that every day I met a young
gentleman at the three-thirty train and took him for a ride!

     Could Mendasity do more? Is it right that such a Creature,
with his pockets full of nails and scandle, should vote, while
intellagent women remain idle? I think not.

     When, therefore, I waved my hand to my _fiancee_, thus
showing a forgiving disposition, I was met but with a cold bow.
I was heart-broken, but it is but to true that in our state of
society the female must not make advanses, but must remain
still, although suffering. I therfore sat still and stared
hautily at the water cap of my car, although seathing within,
but without knowing the cause of our rupture.

     The Stranger came. I shrink in retrospect from calling him
the Theif, although correct in one sense. I saw Tom stareing at
him banefully, but I took no notice, merely getting out and
kicking the tires to see if air enough in them. I then got in
and drove away.

     The Stranger looked excited, and did not mention the
weather as customery. But at last he said:

     "Somehow I gather, Little Sister, that you know a lot of
things you do not talk about."

     "I do not care to be adressed as `Little Sister,'" I said
in an icy tone. "As for talking, I do not interfere with what is
not my concern."

     "Good," he observed." And I take it that, when you find an
overcoat or any such garment, you do not exhibit it to the
Familey, but put it away in some secluded nook. Eh, what?"

     "No one has seen it. It is in the Car now, under that rug."

     He turned and looked at me intently.

     "Do you know," he observed, "my admiration for you is
posatively beyond words!"

     "Then don't talk," I said, feeling still anguished by Tom's
conduct and not caring much just then about the reward or any
such mundane matters.

     "But I _must_ talk," he replied. "I have a little plan,
which I darsay you have guest. As a matter of fact, I have
reasons to think it will fall in with--er--plans of your own."

     Ye gods! Was I thus being asked to compound a felony? Or
did he not think I belonged to my own Familey, but to some other
of the same name, and was therfore not suspicous.

     "Here's what I want," he went on in a smooth manner. "And
there's Twenty-five dollars in it for you. I want this little
car of yours tonight."

     Here I almost ran into a cow, but was luckaly saved, as a
Jersey cow costs seventy-five dollars and even more, depending
on how much milk given daily. When back on the road again,
having but bent a mud guard against a fense, I was calmer.

     "How do I know you will bring it back?" I asked, stareing
at him fixedly.

     "Oh, now see here," he said, straightening his necktie, "I
may be a Theif, but I am not that kind of a Theif. I play for
big stakes or nothing."

     I then remembered that there was a large dinner that night
and that mother would have her jewelery out from the safe
deposit, and father's pearl studs et cetera. I turned pale, but
he did not notice it, being busy counting out Twenty-five
dollars in small bills.

     I am one to think quickly, but with precicion. So I said:

     "You can't drive, can you?"

     "I do drive, dear Little--I beg your pardon. And I think,
with a lesson now, I could get along. Now see here, Twenty-five
dollars while you are asleep and therfore not gilty if I take
your car from wherever you keep it. I'll leave it at the station
and you'll find it there in the morning."

     Is it surprizing that I agreed and that I took the filthy
lucre? No. For I knew then that he would never get to the
station, and the reward of two hundred, plus the Twenty-five,
was already mine mentaly.

     He learned to drive the Arab in but a short time, and I
took him to the shed and showed him where I hid the key. He said
he had never heard before of a girl owning a Motor and her
parents not knowing, and while we were talking there Tom Gray
went by in the station hack and droped somthing in the road.

     When I went out to look _it was the key ring I had given
him_.

     I knew then that all was over and that I was doomed to a
single life, growing more and more meloncholy until Death
releived my sufferings. For I am of a proud nature, to proud to
go to him and explain. If he was one to judge me by apearances
I was through. But I ached. Oh, how I ached!

     The Theif did not go further that day, but returned to the
station. And I? I was not idle, beleive me. During the remainder
of the day, although a broken thing, I experamented to find
exactly how much gas it took to take the car from the station to
our house. As I could not go to the house I had to guess partly,
but I have a good mind for estimations, and I found that two
quarts would do it.

     So he could come to the house or nearby, but he could not
get away with his ill-gotten gains. I therfore returned to my
home and ate a nursery supper, and Hannah came in and said:

     "I'm about out of my mind, Miss Bab. There's trouble coming
to this Familey, and it keeps on going to dinners and
disregarding all hints."

     "What sort of trouble?". I asked, in a flutering voice. For
if she knew and told I would not recieve the reward, or not
solely.

     "I think you know," she rejoined, in a suspicous tone." And
that you should assist in such a thing, Miss Bab, is a great
Surprize to me. I have considered you flitey, but nothing more."

     She then slapped a cup custard down in front of me and went
away, leaving me very nervous. Did she know of the Theif, or was
she merely refering to the car, which she might have guest from
grease on my clothes, which would get there in spite of being
carful, especialy when changing a tire?

     Well, I have now come to the horrable events of that night,
at writing which my pen almost refuses. To have dreamed and
hoped for a certain thing, and then by my own actions to
frustrate it was to be my fate.

     "Oh God! that one might read the book of fate!" Shakspeare.

     As I felt that, when everything was over, the people would
come in from the Club and the other country places to see the
captured Crimenal, I put on one of the frocks which mother had
ordered and charged to me on that Allowence which was by that
time _non est_. (Latin for dissapated. I use dissapated in the
sense of spent, and not debauchery.) By that time it was nine
o'clock, and Tom had not come, nor even telephoned. But I felt
this way. If he was going to be jealous it was better to know it
now, rather than when to late and perhaps a number of offspring.

     I sat on the Terrace and waited, knowing full well that it
was to soon, but nervous anyhow. I had before that locked all
the library windows but the one with the X on the sketch, also
putting a nail at the top so he could not open them and escape.
And I had the key of the library door and my trusty weapon under
a cushion, loaded--the weapon, of course, not the key.

     I then sat down to my lonely Vigil.

     At eleven P. M. I saw a sureptitious Figure coming across
the lawn, and was for a moment alarmed, as he might be coming
while the Familey and the jewels, and so on, were still at the
Club.

     But it was only Carter Brooks, who said he had invited
himself to stay all night, and the Club was sickning, as all the
old people were playing cards and the young ones were paired and
he was an odd man.

     He then sat down on the cushion with the revolver under it,
and said:

     "Gee whiz! Am I on the Cat? Because if so it is dead. It
moves not."

     "It might be a Revolver," I said, in a calm voice. "There
was one lying around somwhere."

     So he got up and observed: "I have conscientous scruples
against sitting on a poor, unprotected gun, Bab." He then picked
it up and it went off, but did no harm except to put a hole in
his hat which was on the floor.

     "Now see here, Bab," he observed, looking angry, because it
was a new one--the hat. "I know you, and I strongly suspect you
put that Gun there. And no blue eyes and white frock will make
me think otherwise. And if so, why?"

     "I am alone a good deal, Carter," I said, in a wistfull
manner, "as my natural protecters are usualy enjoying the flesh
pots of Egypt. So it is natural that I should wish to be at
least fortified against trouble."

     _He then put the revolver in his pocket_, and remarked that
he was all the protecter I needed, and that the flesh pots only
seemed desirable because I was not yet out. But that once out I
would find them full of indigestion, headaches, and heartburn.

     "This being grown-up is a sort of Promised Land," he said,
"and it is always just over the edge of the World. You'll never
be as nice again, Bab, as you are just now. And because you are
still a little girl, although `plited,' I am going to kiss the
tip of your ear, which even the lady who ansers letters in the
newspapers could not object to, and send you up to bed."

     So he bent over and kissed the tip of my ear, which I
considered not a sentamental spot and therfore not to be fussy
about. And I had to pretend to go up to my chamber.

     I was in a state of great trepidation as I entered my
Residense, because how was I to capture my prey unless armed to
the teeth? Little did Carter Brooks think that he carried in his
pocket, not a Revolver or at least not merely, but my entire
future.

     However, I am not one to give up, and beyond a few tears of
weakness, I did not give way. In a half hour or so I heard
Carter Brooks asking George for a whisky and soda and a suit of
father's pajamas, and I knew that, ere long, he would be would
be

            _In pleasing Dreams and slumbers light_.

                                                 _ Scott_.

     Would or would he not bolt his door? On this hung, in the
Biblical phraze, all the law and the profits.

     He did not. Crouching in my Chamber I saw the light over
his transom become blackness, and soon after, on opening his
door and speaking his name softly, there was no response. I
therfore went in and took my Revolver from his bureau, but there
was somthing wrong with the spring and it went off. It broke
nothing, and as for Hannah saying it nearly killed her, this is
not true. It went into her mattress and wakened her, but nothing
more.

     Carter wakened up and yelled, but I went out into the hall
and said:

     "I have taken my Revolver, which belongs to me anyhow. And
don't dare to come out, because you are not dressed."

     I then went into my chamber and closed the door firmly,
because the servants were coming down screaming and Hannah was
yelling that she was shot. I explained through the door that
nothing was wrong, and that I would give them a dollar each to
go back to bed and not alarm my dear parents. Which they
promised.

     It was then midnight, and soon after my Familey returned
and went to bed. I then went downstairs and put on a dark coat
because of not wishing to be seen, and a cap of father's,
wishing to apear as masculine as possable, and went outside,
carrying my weapon, and being careful not to shoot it, as the
spring seemed very loose. I felt lonely, but not terrafied, as
I would have been had I not known the Theif personaly and felt
that he was not of a violent tipe.

     It was a dark night, and I sat down on the verandah outside
the fatal window, which is a French one to the floor, and
waited. But suddenly my heart almost stopped. Some one was
moving about _inside_!

     I had not thought of an acomplice, yet such there must be.
For I could hear, on the hill, the noise of my automobile, which
is not good on grades and has to climb in a low geer. How
terrable, to, to think of us as betrayed by one of our own
_menage_!

     It was indeed a cricis.

     However, by getting in through a pantrey window, which I
had done since a child for cake and so on, I entered the hall
and was able, without a sound, to close and lock the library
door. In this way, owing to nails in the windows, I thus had the
Gilty Member of our _menage_ so that only the one window
remained, and I now returned to the outside and covered it with
a steady aim.

     What was my horror to see a bag thrust out through this
window and set down by the unknown within!

     Dear reader, have you ever stood by and seen a home you
loved looted, despoiled and deprived of even the egg spoons,
silver after-dinner coffee cups, jewels and toilet articals? If
not, you cannot comprehand my greif and stern resolve to recover
them, at whatever cost.

     I by now cared little for the Reward but everything for
honor.

     The second Theif was now aproaching. I sank behind a
steamer chair and waited.

     Need I say here that I meant to kill no one? Have I not, in
every page, shown that I am one for peace and have no desire for
bloodshed? I think I have. Yet, when the Theif apeared on the
verandah and turned a pocket flash on the leather bag, which I
percieved was one belonging to the Familey, I felt indeed like
shooting him, although not in a fatal spot.

     He then entered the room and spoke in a low tone.

     _The Reward was mine_.

     I but slipped to the window and closed it from the outside,
at the same time putting in a nail as mentioned before, so that
it could not be raised, and then, raising my revolver in the
air, I fired the remaining four bullets, forgeting the roof of
the verandah which now has four holes in it.

     Can I go on? Have I the strength to finish? Can I tell how
the Theif cursed and tried to raise the window, and how every
one came downstairs in their night clothes and broke in the
library door, while carrying pokers, and knives, et cetera. And
how, when they had met with no violence but only sulkey silence,
and turned on the lights, there was Leila dressed ready to
elope, and the Theif had his arms around her, and she was
weeping? Because he was poor, although of good familey, and
lived in another city, where he was a broker, my familey had
objected to him. Had I but been taken into Leila's confidence,
which he considered I had, or at least that I understood, how I
would have helped, instead of thwarting! If any parents or older
sisters read this, let them see how wrong it is to leave any
member of the familey in the dark, especialy in _affaires de
couer_.

     Having seen from the verandah window that I had comitted an
enor, and unable to bear any more, I crawled in the pantrey
window again and went up stairs to my Chamber. There I undressed
and having hid my weapon, pretended to be asleep.

     Some time later I heard my father open the door and look
in.

     "Bab!" he said, in a stealthy tone.

     I then pretended to wake up, and he came in and turned on
a light.

     "I suppose you've been asleep all night," he said, looking
at me with a searching glanse.

     "Not lately," I said. "I--wasn't there a Noise or
somthing?"

     "There was," he said. "Quite a racket. You're a sound
sleeper. Well, turn over and settle down. I don't want my little
girl to lose her Beauty Sleep."

     He then went over to the lamp and said:

     "By the way, Bab, I don't mind you're sleeping in my golf
cap, but put it back in the morning because I hate to have to
hunt my things all over the place."

     I had forgoten to take off his cap!

     Ah, well, it was all over, although he said nothing more,
and went out. But the next morning, after a terrable night, when
I realized that Leila had been about to get married and I had
ruined everything, I found a note from him under my door.

     _Dear Bab_: After thinking things over, I think you and I
would better say nothing about last night's mystery. But suppose
you bring your car to meet me tonight at the station, and we
will take a ride, avoiding milk wagons if possible. You might
bring your check book, too, and the revolver, which we had
better bury in some quiet spot.

                                              FATHER.

     P. S. I have mentioned to your mother that I am thinking of
buying you a small car. _Verbum sap_.

                          *     *     *      *

     The next day my mother took me calling, because if the
Servants were talking it was best to put up a bold front, and
pretend that nothing had happened except a Burglar alarm and no
Burglar. We went to Gray's and Tom's grandmother was there,
_without her cruches_.

     During the evening I dressed in a pink frock, with roses,
and listened for a car, because I knew Tom was now allowed to
drive again. I felt very kind and forgiving, because father had
said I was to bring the car to our garage and he would buy
gasoline and so on, although paying no old bills, because I
would have to work out my own Salvation, but buying my revolver
at what I paid for it.

     But Tom did not come. This I could not beleive at first,
because such conduct is very young and imature, and to much like
fighting at dancing school because of not keeping step and so
on.

     At last, Dear Reader, I heard a machine coming, and I went
to the entrance to our drive, sliding in the shrubery to
surprize him. I did not tremble as previously, because I had
learned that he was but human, though I had once considered
otherwise, but I was willing to forget.

             _How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot_!

             _The World forgeting, by the World forgot_.

                                                  _Pope_.

     However, the car did not turn into our drive, but went on.
And in it were Tom, and that one who I had considered until that
time my best and most intimite friend, Jane Raleigh.

     _Sans_ fiancee, _sans_ friend, _sans_ reward and _sans_
Allowence, I turned and went back to my father, who was on the
verandah and was now, with my mother and sister, all that I had
left in the World.

     And my father said: "Well, here I am, around as usual. Do
you feel to grown-up to sit on my knee?"

     I did not.

CHAPTER V

THE G.A.C.

APRIL 9TH. As I am leaving this School to-morrow for the Easter
Holadays, I revert to this Dairy, which has not been written in
for some months, owing to being a Senior now and carrying a
heavy schedule.

     My trunk has now gone, and I have but just returned from
Chapel, where Miss Everett made a Speach, as the Head has
quinzy. She raised a large Emblem that we have purchaced at
fifty cents each, and said in a thrilling voice that our beloved
Country was now at war, and expected each and all to do his
duty.

     "I shall not," she said, "point out to any the Fields of
their Usefulness. That they must determine for themselves. But
I know that the Girls of this school will do what they find to
do, and return to the school at the end of two weeks, school
opening with evening Chapel as usual and no tardiness permitted,
better off for the use they have made of this Precious Period."

     We then sang the Star-Spangled Banner, all standing and
facing the piano, but watching to see if Fraulein sang, which
she did. Because there are those who consider that she is a
German Spy.

     I am now sitting in the Upper House, wondering what I can
do. For I am like this and always have been. I am an American
through and through, having been told that I look like a tipical
American girl. And I do not beleive in allowing Patriotism to be
a matter of words--words, emty words.

     No. I am one who beleives in doing things, even though
necesarily small. What if I can be but one of the little drops
of Water or little grains of Sand? I am ready to rise like a
lioness to my country's call and would, if permitted and not
considered imodest by my Familey, put on the clothing of the
Other Sex and go into the trenches.

     What can I do?

     It is strange to be going home in this manner, thinking of
Duty and not of boys and young men. Usualy when about to return
to my Familey I think of Clothes and _affairs de couer_, because
at school there is nothing much of either except on Friday
evenings. But now all is changed. All my friends of the Other
Sex will have roused to the defense of their Country, and will
be away.

     And I to must do my part, or bit, as the English say.

     But what? Oh what?

     APRIL 10TH. I am writing this in the Train, which accounts
for poor writing, etcetera. But I cannot wait for I now see a
way to help my Country.

     The way I thought of it was this:

     I had been sitting in deep thought, and although returning
to my Familey was feeling sad at the idea of my Country at war
and I not helping. Because what could I do, alone and unarmed?
What was my strength against that of the German Army? A trifle
light as air!

     It was at this point in my pain and feeling of being
utterly useless, that a young man in the next seat asked if he
might close the Window, owing to Soot and having no other coller
with him. I assented.

     How little did I realize that although resembling any other
Male of twenty years, he was realy Providence?

     The way it happened was in this manner. Although not
supposed to talk on trains, owing to once getting the wrong
suit-case, etcetera, one cannot very well refuse to anser if one
is merely asked about a Window. And also I pride myself on
knowing Human Nature, being seldom decieved as to whether a
gentleman or not. I gave him a steady glance, and saw that he
was one.

     I then merely said to him that I hoped he intended to
enlist, because I felt that I could at least do this much for my
Native Land.

     "I have already done so," he said, and sat down beside me.
He was very interesting and I think will make a good soldier,
although not handsome. He said he had been to Plattsburg the
summer before, drilling, and had not been the same since,
feeling now very ernest and only smoking three times a day. And
he was two inches smaller in the waste and three inches more in
chest. He then said:

     "If some of you girls with nothing to do would only try it
you would have a new outlook on Life."

     "Nothing to do!" I retorted, in an angry manner. "I am sick
and tired of the way my Sex is always reproached as having
nothing to do. If you consider French and music and Algebra and
History and English composition nothing, as well as keeping
house and having children and atending to social duties, _I do_
not."

     "Sorry," he said, stiffly. "Of course I had no idea--do you
mean that you have a Familey of your own?"

     "I was refering to my Sex in general," I replied, in a cold
tone.

     He then said that there were Camps for girls, like
Plattsburg only more Femanine, and that they were bully. (This
was his word. I do not use slang.)

     "You see," he said, "they take a lot of over-indulged
society girls and make them over into real People."

     Ye gods! Over-indulged!

     "Why don't you go to one?" he then asked.

     "Evadently," I said, "I am not a real Person."

     "Well, I wouldn't go as far as that. But there isn't much
left of the way God made a girl, by the time she's been curled
and dressed and governessed for years, is there? They can't even
walk, but they talk about helping in the War. It makes me sick!"

     I now saw that I had made a mistake, and began reading a
Magazine, so he went back to his seat and we were as strangers
again. As I was very angry I again opened my window, and he got
a cinder in his eye and had to have the Porter get it out.

     He got out soon after, and he had the impertinance to stop
beside me and say:

     "I hate to disapoint you, but I find I have a clean coller
in my bag after all." He then smiled at me, although I gave him
no encouragment whatever, and said: "You're sitting up much
better, you know. And if you would take off those heals I'll
venture to say you could _walk_ with any one."

     I detested him with feirceness at that time. But since then
I have pondered over what he said. For it is my Nature to be
fair and to consider things from every angel. I therfore said
this to myself.

     "If members of the Male Sex can reduce their wastes and
increase their usefulness to their Native Land by camping,
exercising and drilling, why not get up a camp of my own, since
I knew that I would not be alowed to go away to train, owing to
my Familey?"

     I am always one to decide quickly. So I have now made a
sketch of a Unaform and written out the names of ten girls who
will be home when I am. I here write out the Purpose of our
organisation:

     To defend the Country and put ourselves into good Physical
Condition.--Memo: Look up "physical" as it looks odd, as if
mispelled.

     MOTTO: To be voted on later.

     PASSWORD: Plattsburg.

     DUES: Ten dollars each in advance to buy Tent, etcetera.

     UNAFORM: Kakhi, with orange-colored necktie. In times of
danger the orange color to be changed to something which will
not atract the guns of the Enemy.

     NAME: Girls' Aviation Corps. But to be known generally as
the G. A. C. as because of Spies and so on we must be as secret
as possable.

     I have done everything thus in advance, because we will
have but a short time, and besides I know that if everything is
not settled Jane will want to run things, and probably insist on
a set of By-Laws, etcetera, which will take to much time.

     I have also decided to be Captain, as having organised the
Camp and having a right to be.

     10 P. M. I am now in my familiar Chamber, and Hannah says
they intended to get new furnature but feel they should not, as
War is here and everything very expencive.

     But I must not complain. It is war time.

     I shall now record the events from 5 P. M. to the present.

     Father met me at the station as usual, and asked me if I
cared to stop and buy some candy on the way home. Ye gods, was
I in a mood for candy?

     "I think not, father," I replied, in a dignafied way. "Our
dear Country is now at war, and it is no time for
self-indulgence."

     "Good for you!" he said. "Evadently that school of yours is
worth something after all. But we might have a bit of candy,
anyhow, don't you think? Because we want to keep our Industries
going and money in circulation."

     I could not refuse under such circumstances, and purchaced
five pounds.

     Alas, war has already made changes in my Familey. George,
the butler, has felt the call of Duty and has enlisted, and we
now have a William who chips the best china, and looks like a
German although he says not, and willing to put out the Natioual
Emblem every morning from a window in father's dressing room.
Which if he is a Spy he would probably not do, or at least
without being compeled to.

     I said nothing about the G. A. C. during dinner, as I was
waiting to see if father would give me ten dollars before I
organized it. But I am a person of strong feelings, and I was
sad and depressed, thinking of my dear Country at War and our
beginning with soup and going on through as though nothing was
happening. I therfore observed that I considered it unpatriotic,
with the Enemy at our gatez, to have Sauterne on the table and
a Cocktail beforehand, as well as expencive tobacco and so on,
even although economising in other ways, such as furnature.

     "What's that?" my father said to me, in a sharp tone.

     "Let her alone, father," Leila said. "She's just
dramatising herself as usual. We're probably in for a dose of
Patriotism."

     I would perhaps have made a sharp anser, but a street piano
outside began to play The Star-Spangled Banner. I then stood up,
of course, and mother said: "Sit down, for heaven's sake,
Barbara."

     "Not until our National Anthem is finished, mother," I said
in a tone of gentle reproof. "I may not vote or pay taxes, but
this at least I can do."

     Well, father got up to, and drank his coffee standing. But
he gave William a dollar for the man outside, and said to tell
him to keep away at meal times as even patriotism requires
nourishment.

     After dinner in the drawing room, mother said that she was
going to let me give a Luncheon.

     "There are about a dosen girls coming out when you do,
Bab," she said. "And you might as well begin to get acquainted.
We can have it at the Country Club, and have some boys, and
tennis afterwards, if the courts are ready."

     "Mother!" I cried, stupafied. "How can you think of Social
pleasures when the enemy is at our gates?"

     "Oh nonsense, Barbara," she replied in a cold tone. "We
intend to do our part, of course. But what has that to do with
a small Luncheon?"

     "I do not feel like festivaty," I said. "And I shall be
very busy this holaday, because although young there are some
things I can do."

     Now I have always loved my mother, although feeling
sometimes that she had forgoten about having been a girl herself
once, and also not being much given to Familey embrases because
of her hair being marceled and so on. I therfore felt that she
would probably be angry and send me to bed.

     But she was not. She got up very sudenly and came around
the table while William was breaking a plate in the pantrey, and
put her hand on my shoulder.

     "Dear little Bab!" she said. "You are right and I am wrong,
and we will just turn in and do what we can, all of us. We will
give the party money to the Red Cross."

     I was greatly agatated, but managed to ask for the ten
dollars for my share of the Tent, etcetera, although not saying
exactly what for, and father passed it over to me. War certainly
has changed my Familey, for even Leila came over a few moments
ago with a hat that she had bought and did not like.

     I must now stop and learn the Star-Spangled Banner by
heart, having never known but the first verse, and that not
entirely.

     LATER: How helpless I feel and how hopeless!

     I was learning the second verse by singing it, when father
came over in his _robe de nuit_, although really pagamas, and
said that he enjoyed it very much, and of course I was right to
learn it as aforsaid. but that if the Familey did not sleep it
could not be very usefull to the Country the next day such as
making shells and other explosives.

     APRIL 11TH: I have had my breakfast and called up Jane
Raleigh. She was greatly excited and said:

     "I'm just crazy about it. What sort of a Unaform will we
have?"

     This is like Jane, who puts clothes before everything. But
I told her what I had in mind, and she said it sounded perfectly
thrilling.

     "We each of us ought to learn some one thing," she said,
"so we can do it right. It's an age of Specialties. Suppose you
take up signaling, or sharp-shooting if you prefer it, and I can
learn wireless telegraphy. And maybe Betty will take the flying
course, because we ought to have an Aviator and she is afraid of
nothing, besides having an uncle who is thinking of buying an
Aeroplane."

     "What else would you sugest?" I said freezingly. Because to
hear her one would have considered the entire G. A. C. as her
own idea.

     "Well," she said, "I don't know, unless we have a Secret
Service and guard your father's mill. Because every one thinks
he is going to have trouble with Spies."

     I made no reply to this, as William was dusting the Drawing
Room, but said, "Come over. We can discuss that privatly." I
then rang off.

     I am terrably worried, because my father is my best friend,
having always understood me. I cannot endure to think that he is
in danger. Alas, how true are the words of Dryden:

             _"War, he sung, is Toil and Trouble_,

              _Honour but an empty Bubble_."

     NOON: Jane came over as soon as she had had her breakfast,
and it was a good thing I had everything written out, because
she started in right away to run things. She wanted a
Constitution and By-Laws as I had expected. But I was ready for
her.

     "We have a Constitution, Jane," I said, solemnly. "The
Constitution of the United States, and if it is good enough for
a whole Country I darsay it is good enough for us. As for
By-laws, we can make them as we need them, which is the way laws
ought to be made anyhow."

     We then made a list, Jane calling up as I got the numbers
in the telephone book. Everybody accepted, although Betty
Anderson objected to the orange tie because she has red hair,
and one of the Robinson twins could not get ten dollars because
she was on probation at School and her Familey very cold with
her. But she had loned a girl at school five dollars and was
going to write for it at once, and thought she could sell a last
year's sweater for three dollars to their laundress's daughter.
We therfore admited her.

     All is going well, unless our Parents refuse, which is not
likely, as we intend to purchace the Tent and Unaforms before
consulting them. It is the way of Parents not to care to see
money wasted.

     Our motto we have decided on. It is but three letters, W.
I. H., and is a secret.

     LATER: Sis has just informed me that Carter Brooks has not
enlisted, but is playing around as usual! I feel dreadfully, as
he is a friend of my Familey. Or rather _was.
_

     7 P. M.: The G. A. C. is a fact. It is also ready for duty.
How wonderful it is to feel that one is about to be of some use
to one's own, one's Native Land!

     We held a meeting early this P. M. in our library, all
doors being closed and Sentries posted. I had made some fudge
also, although the cook, who is a new one, was not pleasant
about the butter and so on.

     We had intended to read the Constitution of the U. S. out
loud, but as it is long we did not, but signed our names to it
in my father's copy of the American Common Wealth. We then went
out and bought the Tent and ten camp chairs, although not
expecting to have much time to sit down.

     The G. A. C. was then ready for duty.

     Before disbanding for the day I made a short speach in the
shop, which was almost emty. I said that it was our intention to
show the members of the Other Sex that we were ready to spring
to the Country's call, and also to assist in recruiting by
visiting the different Milatary Stations and there encouraging
those who looked faint-hearted and not willing to fight.

     "Each day," I said, in conclusion, "one of us will be
selected by the Captain, myself, to visit these places and as
soon as a man has signed up, to pin a flower in his buttonhole.
As we have but little money, the tent having cost more than
expected, we can use carnations as not expencive."

     The man who had sold us the tent thought this was a fine
idea, and said he thought he would enlist the next day, if we
would be around.

     We then went went to a book shop and bought the Plattsburg
Manual, and I read to the members of the Corps these rules, to
be strictly observed:

     1. Carry yourself at all times as though you were proud of
Yourself, your Unaform, and your Country.

     2. Wear your hat so that the brim is parallel to the
ground.

     3. Have all buttons fastened.

     4. Never have sleeves rolled up.

     5. Never wear sleeve holders.

     6. Never leave shirt or coat unbuttoned at the throat.

     7. Have leggins and trousers properly laced. (Only
leggins).

     8. Keep shoes shined.

     9. Always be clean shaved. (Unecessary).

     10. Keep head up and shoulders square.

     11. Camp life has a tendency to make one careless as to
personal cleanliness. Bear this in mind.

     We then gave the Milatary Salute and disbanded, as it was
time to go home and dress for dinner.

     On returning to my domacile I discovered that, although the
sun had set and the hour of twilight had arived, the Emblem of
my Country still floated in the breese. This made me very angry,
and ringing the door-bell I called William to the steps and
pointing upward, I said:

     "William, what does this mean?"

     He pretended not to understand, although avoiding my eye.

     "What does what mean, Miss Barbara?"

     "The Emblem of my Country, and I trust of yours, for I
understand you are naturalized, although if not you'd better be,
floating in the breese _after sunset_."

     Did I or did I not see his face set into the lines of one
who had little or no respect for the Flag?

     "I'll take it down when I get time, miss," he said, in a
tone of resignation. "But what with making the salid and laying
the table for dinner and mixing cocktails, and the cook so ugly
that if I as much as ask for the paprika she's likely to throw
a stove lid, I haven't much time for Flags."

     I regarded him sternly.

     "Beware, William," I said. "Remember that, although
probably not a Spy or at least not dangerous, as we in this
country now have our eyes open and will stand no nonsense, you
must at all times show proper respect to the National Emblem. Go
upstairs and take it in."

     "Very well, miss," he said. "But perhaps you will allow me
to say this, miss. There are to many houses in this country
where the Patriotic Feeling of the inhabatants are shown only by
having a paid employee hang out and take in what you call The
Emblem."

     He then turned and went in, leaving me in a stupafied state
on the door-step.

     But I am not one to be angry on hearing the truth, although
painfull. I therfore ran in after him and said:

     "William, you are right and I am wrong. Go back to your
Pantrey, and leave the Flag to me. From now on it will be my
duty."

     I therfore went upstairs to my father's dressing room,
where he was shaveing for dinner, and opened the window. He was
disagreable and observed:

     "Here, shut that! It's as cold as blue blazes."

     I turned and looked at him in a severe manner.

     "I am sorry, father," I said. "But as between you and my
Country I have no choice."

     "What the dickens has the Country got to do with giving me
influensa?" he exclaimed, glaring at me. "Shut that window."

     I folded my arms, but remained calm.

     "Father," I said, in a low and gentle tone, "need I remind
you that it is at present almost seven P. M. and that the Stars
and Stripes, although supposed to be lowered at sunset, are
still hanging out this window?"

     "Oh, that's it, is it?" he said in a releived tone. "You're
nothing if you're not thorough, Bab! Well, as they have hung an
hour and fifteen minutes to long as it is, I guess the Country
won't go to the dogs if you shut that window until I get a shirt
on. Go away and send Williarm up in ten minutes."

     "Father," I demanded, intencely, "do you consider yourself
a Patriot?"

     "Well," he said, "I'm not the shouting tipe, but I guess
I'll be around if I'm needed. Unless I die of the chill I'm
getting just now, owing to one shouting Patriot in the Familey."

     "Is this your Country or William's?" I insisted, in an
inflexable voice.

     "Oh, come now," he said, "we can divide it, William and I.
There's enough for both. I'm not selfish."

     It is always thus in my Familey. They joke about the most
serious things, and then get terrably serious about nothing at
all, such as overshoes on wet days, or not passing in French
grammer, or having a friend of the Other Sex, etcetera.

     "There are to many houses in this country, father," I said,
folding my arms, "where the Patriotism of the Inhabatants is
shown by having a paid employee hang out and take in the Emblem
between Cocktails and salid, so to speak."

     "Oh damm!" said my father, in a feirce voice. "Here, get
away and let me take it in. And as I'm in my undershirt I only
hope the neighbors aren't looking out."

     He then sneazed twice and drew in the Emblem, while I stood
at the Salute. How far, how very far from the Plattsburg Manual,
which decrees that our flag be lowered to the inspiring music of
the Star-Spangled Banner, or to the bugel call, "To the Colors."

     Such, indeed, is life.

     LATER: Carter Brooks dropped in this evening. I was very
cold to him and said:

     "Please pardon me if I do not talk much, as I am in low
spirits."

     "Low spirits on a holaday!" he exclaimed. "Well, we'll have
to fix that. How about a motor Picnic?"

     It is always like that in our house. They regard a Party or
a Picnic as a cure for everything, even a heartache, or being
worried about Spies, etcetera.

     "No, thank you," I said. "I am worried about those of my
friends who have enlisted." I then gave him a scornful glance
and left the room. He said "Bab!" in a strange voice and I heard
him coming after me. So I ran as fast as I could to my Chamber
and locked the door.

     IN CAMP GIRLS AVIATION CORPS, APRIL 12TH.

     We are now in Camp, although not in Unaform, owing to the
delivery waggon not coming yet with our clothes. I am writing on
a pad on my knee, while my Orderley, Betty Anderson, holds the
ink bottle.

     What a morning we have had!

     Would one not think that, in these terrable times, it would
be a simple matter to obtain a spot wherein to prepare for the
defence of the Country? Should not the Young be encouraged to
spring to the call, "To arms, to arms, ye braves!" instead of
being reproved for buying a Tent with no place as yet to put it,
and the Adams's governess being sent along with Elaine because
we need a Chaperone?

     Ye gods! A Chaperone to a Milatary Camp!

     She is now sitting on one of the camp stools and
embroidering a centerpeice. She brought her own lunch and
Elaine's, refusing to allow her to eat the regular Milatary
rations of bacon and boiled potatoes, etcetera, and not ofering
a thing to us, although having brought chicken sandwitches, cake
and fruit.

     I shall now put down the events of the day, as although the
Manual says nothing of keeping a record, I am sure it is always
done. Have I not read, again and again, of the Captain's log,
which is not wood, as it sounds, but is a journal or Dairy?

     This morning the man at the tent store called up and asked
where to send the tent. I then called a meeting in my Chamber,
only to meet with bitter disapointment, as one Parent after
another had refused to allow their grounds to be used. I felt
sad--helpless, as our house has no grounds, except for hanging
out washing, etcetera.

     I was very angry and tired to, having had to get up at
sunrise to put out the Emblem, and father having wakened and
been very nasty. So I got up and said:

     "It is clear that our Families are Patriots in name only,
and not in deed. Since they have abandoned us, The G. A. C. must
abandon them and do as it thinks best. Between Familey and
Country, I am for the Country."

     Here they all cheered, and Hannah came in and said mother
had a headache and to keep quiet.

     I could but look around, with an eloquent gesture.

     "You see, Members of the Corps," I said in a tence voice,
"that things at present are intollerable. We must strike out for
ourselves. Those who are willing please signafy by saying Aye."

     They all said it and I then sugested that we take my car
and as many as possable of the officers and go out to find a
suitable spot. I then got my car and crowded into it the First
and Second Lieutenants, the Sergeant and the Quartermaster,
which was Jane. She had asked to be Veterinarian, being fond of
dogs, but as we had no animals, I had made her Quartermaster,
giving her charge of the Quarters, or Tent, etcetera. The others
followed in the Adams's limousine, taking also cooking utensils
and food, although Mademoiselle was very disagreeable about the
frying pan and refused to hold it.

     We went first to the tent store. The man in the shop then
instructed me as to how to put up the Tent, and was very kind,
offering to send some one to do it. But I refused.

     "One must learn to do things oneself if one is to be
usefull," I said. "It is our intention to call on no member of
the Male Sex, but to show that we can get along without them."

     "Quite right," he said. "I'm sure you can get along without
us, miss, much better than we could get along without you."

     Mademoiselle considered this a flirtatious speach and
walked out of the shop. But I consider that it was a General
Remark and not personal, and anyhow he was thirty at least, and
had a married apearance.

     As there was not room for the Tent and camp chairs in my
car, the delivery waggon followed us, making quite a procession.

     We tried several farm houses, but one and all had no
Patriotism whatever and refused to let us use their terratory.
It was heartrending, for where we not there to help to protect
that very terratory from the enemy? But no, they cared not at
all, and said they did not want papers all over the place, and
so on. One woman observed that she did not object to us, but
that we would probably have a lot of boys hanging around and
setting fire to things with cigarettes, and anyhow if we were
going to shoot it would keep the hens from laying.

     Ye gods! Is this our National Spirit?

     I simply stood up in the car and said:

     "Madame, we intend to have no Members of the Other Sex. And
if you put eggs above the Stars and Stripes you are nothing but
a Traitor and we will keep an eye on you."

     We then went on, and at last found a place where no one was
living, and decided to claim it in the name of the government.
We then put up the tent, although not as tight as it should have
been, owing to the Adams's chauffeur not letting us have his
wrench to drive the pins in with, and were ready for the day's
work.

     We have now had luncheon and the Quartermaster, Jane, is
burning the papers and so on.

     After I have finished this Log we will take up the
signaling. We have decided in this way: Lining up in a row, and
counting one to ten, and even numbers will study flag signals,
and the odds will take up telagraphy, which is very clearly
shown in the Manual.

     After that we will have exercises to make us strong and
elastic, and then target practise.

     We have as yet no guns, but father has one he uses for duck
shooting in the fall, and Betty's uncle was in Africa last year
and has three, which she thinks she can secure without being
noticed. We have passed this Resolution: To have nothing to do
with those of the other Sex who are not prepared to do their
Duty.

     EVENING, APRIL 12TH. I returned to my domacile in time to
take in Old Glory, and also to dress for dinner, being muddy and
needing a bath, as we had tried bathing in the creek at the camp
while Mademoiselle was asleep in the tent, but found that there
was an oil well near and the water was full of oil, which stuck
to us and was very disagreeable to smell.

     Carter Brooks came to dinner, and I played the National
Anthem on the phonograph as we went in to the Dining Room.
Mother did not like it, as the soup was getting cold, but we all
stood until it was finished. I then saluted, and we sat down.

     Carter Brooks sat beside me, and he gave me a long and
piercing glance.

     "What's the matter with you, Bab?" he said. "You were
rather rude to me last night and now you've been looking through
me and not at me ever since I came, and I'll bet you're
feverish."

     "Not at all." I said, in a cold tone. "I may be excited,
because of war and my Country's Peril. But for goodness sake
don't act like the Familey, which always considers that I am
sick when I am merely intence."

     "Intence about what?" he asked.

     But can one say when one's friends are a disapointment to
one? No, or at least not at the table.

     The others were not listening, as father was fussing about
my waking him at daylight to put out the Emblem.

     "Just slide your hand this way, under the table cloth,"
Carter Brooks said in a low tone. "It may be only intencity, but
it looks most awfully like chicken pocks or somthing."

     So I did, considering that it was only Politeness, and he
took it and said:

     "Don't jerk! It is nice and warm and soft, but not
feverish. What's that lump?"

     "It's a blister," I said. And as the others were now
complaining about the soup, I told him of the Corps, etcetera,
thinking that perhaps it would rouse him to some patriotic
feelings. But no, it did not.

     "Now look here," he said, turning and frowning at me,
"Aviation Corps means flying. Just remember this,--if I hear of
your trying any of that nonsense I'll make it my business to see
that you're locked up, young lady."

     "I shall do exactly as I like, Carter" I said in a, friggid
manner. "I shall fly if I so desire, and you have nothing to say
about it."

     However, seeing that he was going to tell my father, I
added:

     "We shall probably not fly, as we have no machine. There
are Cavalry Regiments that have no horses, aren't there? But we
are but at the beginning of our Milatary existence, and no one
can tell what the next day may bring forth."

     "Not with you, anyhow," he said in an angry tone, and was
very cold to me the rest of the dinner hour.

     They talked about the war, but what a disapointment was
mine! I had returned from my Institution of Learning full of
ferver, and it was a bitter moment when I heard my father
observe that he felt he could be of more use to his Native Land
by making shells than by marching and carrying a gun, as he had
once had milk-leg and was never the same since.

     "Of course," said my father, "Bab thinks I am a slacker.
But a shell is more valuable against the Germans than a milk
leg, anytime."

     I at that moment looked up and saw William looking at my
father in a strange manner. To those who were not on the alert
it might have apeared that he was trying not to smile, my father
having a way of indulging in "quips and cranks and wanton wiles"
at the table which mother does not like, as our Butlers are apt
to listen to him and not fill the glasses and so on.

     But if my Familey slept mentaly I did not. _At once_ I
suspected William. Being still not out, and therfore not
listened to with much atention, I kept my piece and said
nothing. And I saw this. _William was not what he seemed_.

     As soon as dinner was over I went into my father's den,
where he brings home drawings and estamates, and taking his
Leather Dispach case, I locked it in my closet, tying the key
around my neck with a blue ribben. I then decended to the lower
floor, and found Carter Brooks in the hall.

     "I want to talk to you," he said. "Have you young Turks--I
mean young Patriots any guns at this camp of yours?"

     "Not yet."

     "But you expect to, of course?"

     I looked at him in a steady manner.

     "When you have put on the Unaform of your Country" I said,
"or at least of Plattsburg, I shall tell you my Milatary
secrets, and not before."

     "Plattsburg!" he exclaimed. "What do you know of
Plattsburg?"

     I then told him, and he listened, but in a very
disagreeable way. And at last he said:

     "The plain truth, Bab, is that some good-looking chap has
filled you up with a lot of dope which is meant for men, not
romantic girls. I'll bet to cents that if a fellow with a broken
noze or a squint had told you, you'd have forgotten it the next
minute."

     I was exasparated. Because I am tired of being told that
the defence of our Dear Country is a masculine matter.

     "Carter" I said, "I do not beleive in the double, standard,
and never did."

     "The what?"

     "The double standard," I said with dignaty. "It was all
well and good when war meant wearing a kitchin stove and
wielding a lance. It is no longer so. And I will show you."

     I did not mean to be boastfull, such not being my nature.
But I did not feel that one who had not yet enlisted, remarking
that there was time enough when the Enemy came over, etcetera,
had any right to criticise me.

     12 MIDNIGHT. How can I set down what I have discovered? And
having recorded it, how be sure that Hannah will not snoop
around and find this record, and so ruin everything?

     It is midnight. Leila is still out, bent on frivolaty. The
rest of the Familey sleeps quietly, except father, who has taken
cold and is breathing through his mouth, and I sit here alone,
with my secret.

     William is a Spy. I have the proofs. How my hand trembles
as I set down the terrable words.

     I discovered it thus.

     Feeling somewhat emty at bed time and never sleeping well
when hollow inside, I went down to the pantrey at eleven P. M.
to see if any of the dinner puding had been left, although not
hopeful, owing to the servants mostly finishing the desert.

     _William was in the pantrey_.

     He was writing somthing, and he tried to hide it when I
entered.

     Being in my _robe de nuit_ I closed the door and said
through it:

     "Please go away, William. Because I want to come in, unless
all the puding is gone."

     I could hear him moving around, as though concealing
somthing.

     "There is no puding, miss," he said. "And no fruit except
for breakfast. Your mother is very particuler that no one take
the breakfast fruit."

     "William," I said sternly, "go out by the kitchen door.
Because I am hungry, and I am coming in for _somthing_."

     He was opening and closing the pantrey drawers, and
although young, and not a housekeeper, I knew that he was not
looking in them for edables.

     "If you'll go up to your room, Miss Bab," he said, "I'll
mix you an Eggnogg, without alkohol, of course, and bring it up.
An Eggnogg is a good thing to stay the stomache with at night.
I frequently resort to one myself."

     I saw that he would not let me in, so I agreed to the
Eggnogg, but without nutmeg, and went away. My knees tremble to
think that into our peacefull home had come "Grim-vizaged War,"
but I felt keen and capable of dealing with anything, even a
Spy.

     William brought up the Eggnogg, with a dash of sherry in
it, and I could hear him going up the stairs to his chamber. I
drank the Eggnogg, feeling that I would need all my strength for
what was to come, and then went down to the pantrey. It was in
perfect order, except that one of the tea towles had had a pen
wiped on it.

     I then went through the drawers one by one, although not
hopeful, because he probably had the incrimanating document in
the heal of his shoe, which Spies usually have made hollow for
the purpose, or sowed in the lining of his coat.

     At least, so I feared. But it was not so. Under one of the
best table cloths I found it.

     Yes. _I found it_.

     I copy it here in my journal, although knowing nothing of
what it means. Is it a scheme to blow up my father's mill, where
he is making shells for the defence of his Native Land? I do not
know. With shaking hands I put it down as follows:

48 D. K.
48 D. F.
36 S. F.
34 F. F.
36 T. S.
36 S. S.
36 C. S.
24 I. H. K.
36 F. K.

     But in one way its meaning is clear. Treachery is abroad
and Treason has but just stocked up the stairs to its Chamber.

     APRIL 13TH. It is now noon and snowing, although supposed
to be spring. I am writing this Log in the tent, where we have
built a fire. Mademoiselle is sitting in the Adams's limousine,
wrapped in rugs. She is very sulky.

     There are but nine of us, as I telephoned the Quartermaster
early this morning and summoned her to come over and discuss
important business.

     Her Unaform had come and so had mine. What a thrill I felt
as she entered Headquarters (my chamber) in kakhi and saluted.
She was about to sit down, but I reminded her that war knows no
intimacies, and that I was her Captain. She therfore stood, and
I handed her William's code. She read it and said:

     "What is it?"

     "That is what the G. A. C. is to find out," I said. "It is
a cipher."

     "It looks like it," said Jane in a flutering tone. "Oh,
Bab, what are we to do?"

     I then explained how I had discovered it and so on.

     "Our first duty," I went on, "is to watch William. He must
be followed and his every movement recorded. I need not tell you
that our mill is making shells, and that the fate of the Country
may hang on you today."

     "On me?" said Jane, looking terrafied.

     "On you. I have selected you for this first day. To-morrow
it will be another. I have not yet decided which. You must
remain secreted here, but watching. If he goes out, follow him."

     I was again obliged to remind her of my rank and so on, as
she sat down and began to object at once.

     "The Familey," I said, "will be out all day at First Aid
classes. You will be safe from discovery."

     Here I am sorry to say Jane disapointed me, for she
observed, bitterly:

     "No luncheon, I suppose!"

     "Not at all," I said. "It is a part of the Plattsburg idea
that a good soldier must have nourishment, as his strength is
all he has, the Officers providing the brains."

     I then rang for Hannah, and ofered her to dollars to bring
Jane a tray at noon and to sneak it from the kitchin, not the
pantrey.

     "From the kitchin?" she said. "Miss Bab, it's as much as my
life is worth to go to the kitchin. The cook and that new Butler
are fighting something awfull."

     Jane and I exchanged glances.

     "Hannah," I said, in a low tone, "I can only say this. If
you but do your part you may avert a great calamaty."

     "My God, Miss Bab!" she cried. "That cook's a German. I
said so from the beginning."

     "Not the cook, Hannah."

     We were all silent. It was a terrable moment. I shortly
afterwards left the house, leaving Jane to study flag signals,
or wig-waging as vulgarly called, and _to watch_.

     CAMP, 4 P. M. Father has just been here.

     We were trying to load one of Betty's uncle's guns when my
Orderley reported a car coming at a furious gate. On going to
the opening of the tent I saw that it was our car with father
and Jane inside. They did not stop in the road, but turned and
came into the field, bumping awfully.

     Father leaped out and exclaimed:

     "Well!"

     He then folded his arms and looked around.

     "Upon my word, Bab!" he said. "You might at least take your
Familey into your confidence. If Jane had not happened to be at
the house I'd never have found you. But never mind about that
now. Have you or have you not seen my leather Dispach Case?"

     Alas, my face betrayed me, being one that flushes easily
and then turns pale.

     "I thought so," he said, in an angry voice. "Do you know
that you have kept a Board of Directors sitting for three hours,
and that--Bab, you are hopeless! Where is it?"

     How great was my humiliation, although done with the
Highest Motives, to have my Corps standing around and listening.
Also watching while I drew out the rihben and the key.

     "I hid it in my closet, father," I said.

     "Great thunder!" he said. "And we have called in the Secret
Service!"

     He then turned on his heal and stocked away, only stopping
to stare at Mademoiselle in the car, and then driving as fast as
possable back to the mill.

     As he had forgotten Jane, she was obliged to stay. It was
by now raining, and the Corps wanted to go home. But I made a
speach, saying that if we weakened now what would we do in times
of Real Danger?

     "What are a few drops of rain?" I inquired, "to the falling
of bullets and perhaps shells? We will now have the class in
bandageing."

     The Corps drew lots as to who would be bandaged, there
being no volunteers, as it was cold and necesary to remove
Unaform etcetera. Elaine got number seven. The others then
practiced on her, having a book to go by.

     I here add to this log Jane's report on William. He had
cleaned silver until 1 P. M., when he had gone back to the
kitchin and moved off the soup kettle to boil some dish towles.
The cook had then set his dish towles out in the yard and upset
the pan, pretending that a dog had done so. Hannah had told Jane
about it.

     At 1:45 William had gone out, remarking that he was going
to the drug store to get some poizon for the cook. Jane had
followed him and _he had really mailed a Letter_.

     APRIL 14TH. I have taken a heavy cold and am, alas, _hors
de combat_. The Familey has issued orders that I am to stay in
bed this A. M. and if stopped sneazing by 2 P. M. am to be
allowed up but not to go to Camp.

     Elaine is in bed to, and her mother called up and asked my
Parents if they would not send me back to school, as I had upset
everything and they could not even get Elaine to the Dentist's,
as she kept talking about teeth being unimportant when the
safety of the Nation was hanging in the Balence.

     As I lie here and reflect, it seems to me that everywhere
around me I see nothing but Sloth and Indiference. One would
beleive that nothing worse could happen than a Cook giving
notice. Will nothing rouze us to our Peril? Are we to sit here,
talking about housecleaning and sowing women and how wide are
skirts, when the minions of the German Army may at any time turn
us into slaves? Never!

     LATER: Carter Brooks has sent me a book on First Aid. Ye
gods, what chance have I at a wounded Soldier when every person
of the Femanine Sex in this Country is learning First Aid, and
even hoping for small accidents so they can practice on them.
No, there are some who can use their hands (i. e. at bandageing
and cutting small boils, etcetera. Leila has just cut one for
Henry, the chauffeur, although not yellow on top and therfore
not ready) and there are others who do not care for Nursing, as
they turn sick at the sight of blood, and must therfore use
their brains. I am of this class.

     William brought up my tray this morning. I gave him a
peircing glance and said:

     "Is the Emblem out?"

     He avoided my eye.

     "Not yet, miss," he said. "Your father left sharp orders as
to being disturbed before 8 A. M."

     "As it is now 9:30," I observed coldly, "there has been
time enough lost. I am _hors de combat_, or I would have atended
to it long ago."

     He had drawn a stand beside the bed, and I now sat up and
looked at my Tray. The orange was cut through the wrong way!

     Had I needed proof, dear log or journal, I had it there.
For any _Butler_ knows how to cut a breakfast orange.

     "William," I said, as he was going out, "how long have you
been a Butler?"

     Perhaps this was a foolish remark as being calculated to
put him on his guard. But "out of the fullness of the Heart the
Mouth speaketh." It was said. I could not withdraw my words.

     He turned suddenly and looked at me.

     "Me, miss?" he said in a far to inocent tone. "Why, I don't
know exactly. " He then smiled and said: "There are some who
think I am not much of a Butler now."

     "Just a word of advise, William," I said in a signifacant
tone. "A real Butler cuts an orange the other way. I am telling
you, because although having grape fruit mostly, some morning
some one may order an orange, and one should be very careful
_these days_."

     Shall I ever forget his face as he went out? No, never. He
knew that I knew, and was one to stand no nonsense. But I had
put him on his guard. It was to be a battle of Intellagence, his
brains against mine.

     Although regretful at first of having warned him, I feel
now that it is as well. I am one who likes to fight in the open,
not as a serpent coiled in the grass and pretending, like the
one in the Bible, to be a friend.

     3 P. M. No new developments. Although forbidden to go out
nothing was said about the roof. I have therfore been up on it
exchanging Signals with Lucy Gray next door by means of flags.
As their roof slants and it is still raining, she sliped once
and slid to the gutter. She then sat there and screamed like a
silly, although they got her back with a clothesline which the
Policeman asked for.

     But Mrs. Gray was very unpleasant from one of their windows
and said I was a Murderer at heart.

     Has the Average Parent no soul?

     NOON, APRIL 14 (In Camp).

     This is a fine day, being warm and bright and all here but
Elaine and Mademoiselle--the latter not greatly missed, as
although French and an Ally she thinks we should be knitting
etcetera, and ordered the car to be driven away when ever we
tried to load the gun.

     A quorum being present, it was moved and seconded that we
express wherever possable our disaproval in war time of

     1. Cigarettes

     2. Drinking

     3. Low-necked dresses

     4. Parties

     5. Fancy deserts

     6. Golf and other sports--except when necesary for health.

     7. Candy.

     We also pleged ourselves to try and make our Families rise
early, and to insist on Members of our Families hoisting and
taking down the Stars and Stripes, instead of having it done by
those who may not respect it, or only aparently so.

     Passed unanamously.

     The class in Telegraphy reported that it could do little or
nothing, as it is easy to rap out a dot but not possable to rap
a dash. We therfore gave it up for The Study of the Rifle and
Its Care.

     Luncheon today: Canned salmon, canned beans and vanila
wafers.

     2 A. M., APRIL 15TH. I have seen a Spy at his nefarius
work!

     I am still trembling. At one moment I think that I must go
again to Father and demand consideration, as more mature than he
seems to think, and absolutely certain I was not walking in my
sleep. But the next moment I think not, but that if I can
discover William's plot myself, my Familey will no longer ignore
me and talk about my studying Vocal next winter instead of
coming out.

     To return to William, dear Log or journal. I had been
asleep for some time, but wakened up to find myself standing in
the dining room with a napkin in each hand. I was standing in
the Flag Signal position for A, which is the only one I remember
as yet without the Manual.

     I then knew that I had been walking in my sleep, having
done so several times at School, and before Examinations being
usualy tied by my Room-mate with a string from my ankle to the
door knob, so as in case of getting out of bed to wake up.

     I was rather scared, as I do not like the dark, feeling
when in it that Something is behind me and about to cluch at me.

     I therfore stood still and felt like screaming, when
suddenly the door of the Butler's pantrey squeaked. Could I then
have shreiked I would have, but I had no breath for the purpose.

     Somebody came into the room and felt for the table, passing
close by me and stepping by accident on the table bell, which is
under the rug. It rang and scared me more than ever. We then
both stood still, and I hoped if he or it heard my Heart thump
he or it would think it was the hall clock.

     After a time the footsteps moved on around the table and
out into the hall. I was still standing in position A, being as
it were frosen thus.

     However, seeing that it was something human and not
otherwise, as its shoes creaked, I now became angry at the
thought that Treason was under the roof of my home. I therfore
followed the Traitor out into the hall and looked in through the
door at him. He had a flash light, and was opening the drawers
of my father's desk. It was William.

     I then concealed myself behind my father's overcoat in the
hack hall, and considered what to do. Should I scream and be
probably killed, thus dying a noble Death? Or should I remain
still? I decided on the latter.

     And now, dear Log or Journal, I must record what followed,
which I shall do as acurately as I can, in case of having later
on to call in the Secret Service and read this to them.

     There is a safe built in my resadence under the stairs, in
which the silver service, plates, etcetera, are stored, as to
big for the Safe Deposit, besides being a nusance to send for
every time there is a dinner.

     This safe only my father can unlock, or rather, this I
fondly believed until tonight. But how diferent are the facts!
For William walked to it, after listening at the foot of the
stairs, and opened it as if he had done so before quite often.
He then took from it my father's Dispach Case, locked the safe
again, and went back through the dining room.

     It is a terrable thing to see a crime thus comitted and to
know not what to do. Had William repaired again to his chamber,
or would he return for the plates, etcetera?

     At last I crept upstairs to my father's room, which was
locked. I could not waken him by gently taping, and I feared
that if I made a noise I would warn the lurking Criminal in his
den. I therfore went to my bathroom and filled my bath sponge
with water, and threw it threw the transom in the direction of
my father's bed.

     As it happened it struck on his face, and I heard him
getting up and talking dreadfully to himself. Also turning on
the lights. I put my mouth to the keyhole and said:

     "Father!"

     Had he but been quiet, all would have been well. But he
opened the door and began roaring at me in a loud tone, calling
me an imp of Mischeif and other things, and yelling for a towle.

     I then went in and closed the door and said:

     "That's right. Bellow and spoil it all."

     "Spoil what?" he said, glareing at me. "There's nothing
left to spoil, is there? Look at that bed! Look at me!"

     "Father," I said, "while you are raging about over such a
thing as a wet Sponge, which I was driven to in desparation, the
house is or rather has been robbed."

     He then sat down on the bed and said:

     "You are growing up, Bab, although it is early for the
burglar obsession. Go on, though. Who is robbing us and why?
Because if he finds any Money I'll divide with him."

     Such a speach discouraged me, for I can bear anything
except to be laughed at. I therfore said:

     "William has just taken your Dispach Case out of the safe.
I saw him."

     "William!"

     "William," I repeated in a tence voice.

     He was then alarmed and put on his slippers and dressing
gown.

     "You stay here," he observed. "Personally I think you've
had a bad dream, because William can't possably know the
combination of that safe. It's as much as I can do to remember
it myself."

     "It's a Spy's business to know everything, father."

     He gave me a peircing glance.

     "He's a Spy, is he?" he then said. "Well, I might have
known that all this war preparation of yours would lead to
Spies. It has turned more substantile intellects than yours."

     He then swiched on the hall lights from the top of the
stairs and desended. I could but wait at the top, fearing at
each moment a shot would ring out, as a Spy's business is such
as not to stop at Murder.

     My father unlocked the safe and looked in it. Then he
closed it again and disapeared into the back of the house. How
agonising were the moments that ensued! He did not return, and
at last, feeling that he had met a terrable Death, I went down.

     I went through the fatal dining room to the pantrey and
there found him not only alive, but putting on a plate some cold
roast beef and two apples.

     "I thought we'd have a bite to eat," he said. "I need a
little nourishment before getting back into that puddle to
sleep."

     "Father!" I said. "How can you talk of food when knowing---
-"

     "Get some salt and pepper," he said, "and see if there is
any mustard mixed. You've had a dream, Bab. That's all. The Case
is in the safe, and William is in his bed, and in about two
minutes a cold repast is going to be in me."

     Ye gods!

     He is now asleep, and I am writing this at 2 A. M.

     I, and I alone, know that there is a Criminal in this
house, serving our meals and quareling with the cook as if a
regular Butler, but really a Spy. And although I cry aloud in my
anguish, those who hear me but maintain that I am having a
nightmare.

     I am a Voice crying in the Wilderness.

     APRIL 15TH: 9 A. M. William is going about as usual, but
looks as though he had not had enough sleep.

     Father has told mother about last night, and I am not to
have coffee in the evenings. This is not surprizing, as they
have always considered me from a physical and not a mental
standpoint.

     My very Soul is in revolt.

     6 P. M. This being Sunday, camp did not convene until 3 P.
M. and then but for a short time. We flag-signaled mostly and
are now to the letter E. Also got the gun loaded at last and
fired it several times, I giving the orders as in the book, page
262, in a loud voice:

     (1) "Hold the rifle on the mark." (2) "Aim properly." (3)
"Squeeze the Triger properly." (4) "Call the shot."

     We had but just started, and Mademoiselle had taken the car
and gone back to the Adams's residence to bring out Mr. Adams,
as she considers gun-shooting as dangerous, when a farmer with
to dogs came over a fense and objected, saying that it was
Sunday and that his cows were getting excited anyhow and would
probahly not give any milk.

     "These are War times," I said, in a dignafied manner. "And
if you are doing nothing for the country yourself you should at
least allow others to do so."

     He was a not unreasonable tipe and this seemed to effect
him. For he sat down on one of our stools and said:

     "Well, I don't know about that, miss. You see----"

     "Captain," I put in. Because he might as well know that we
meant business.

     "Captain, of course!" he said. "You'll have to excuze me.
This thing of Women in War is new to me. But now don't you think
that you'll be doing the country a service not to interfere with
the food supply and so on?" He then looked at me and remarked:
"If I was you, miss or Captain, I would not come any to clost to
my place. My wife was pretty well bruized up that time you upset
our milk waggon."

     _It was indeed he_! But he was not unpleasant about it,
although remarking that if he had a daughter and a machine,
although he had niether, and expected niether, the one would
never be allowed to have the other until carefully taught on an
emty road.

     He then said:

     "You girls have been wig-wagging, I see."

     "We are studying flag signals."

     "Humph!" he observed. "I used to know something about that
myself, in the Spanish war. Now let's see what I remember. Watch
this. And somebody keep an eye on that hill and report if a blue
calico dress is charging from the enemies' Trenches."

     It was very strange to see one who apeared to be but an
ordinary Farmer, Or Milkman, pick up our flags and wave them
faster than we could read them. It was indeed thrilling,
although discouraging, because if that was the regular rate of
Speed we felt that we could never acheive it. I remarked this,
and he then said:

     "Work hard at it, and I reckon I can slip over now and then
and give you a lesson. Any girl that can drive an automobile
hell-bent" (these are his words, not mine) "can do most anything
she sets her mind on. You leave that gun alone, and work at the
signaling, and I guess I can make out to come every afternoon.
I start out about 2 A. M. and by noon I'm mostly back."

     We all thanked him, and saluted as he left. He saluted to,
and said:

     "Name's Schmidt, but don't worry about that. Got some
German blood way back, but who hasn't?"

     He then departed with his to dogs, and we held a meeting,
and voted to give up everything but signaling.

     Passed unanamously.

     8 P. M. I am now at home. Dinner is over, being early on
Sundays because of Servants' days out and so on.

     Leila had a Doctor to dinner. She met him at the Red Cross,
and he would, I think, be a good husband. He sat beside me, and
I talked mostly about her, as I wished him to know that,
although having her faults as all have, she would be a good
wife.

     "She can sow very well," I told him, "and she would
probably like to keep House, but of course has no chance here,
as mother thinks no one can manage but herself."

     "Indeed!" he said, looking at me. "But of course she will
probably have a house of her own before long."

     "Very likely," I said. "Although she has had a number of
chances and always refuses."

     "Probably the right Person has not happened along;" he
observed.

     "Perhaps," I said, in a signifacant tone. "Or perhaps he
does not know he is the right Person."

     William, of whom more anon, was passing the ice cream just
then. I refused it, saying:

     "Not in war time."

     "Barbara," mother said, stiffly. "Don't be a silly. Eat
your desert."

     As I do not like seens I then took a little, but no cake.

     During dinner Leila made an observation which has somewhat
changed my opinion of Carter Brooks. She said his mother did not
want him to enlist which was why he had not. She has no other
sons and probably never will have, being a widow.

     I have now come to William.

     Lucy Gray had been on Secret Service that day, but did the
observing from the windows of their house, as my Familey was at
home and liable to poke into my room at any moment.

     William had made it up with the cook, Lucy said, and had
showed her a game of Solitaire in the morning by the kitchin
window. He had then fallen asleep in the pantrey, the window
being up. In the afternoon, luncheon being over and the Familey
out in the car for a ride, he had gone out into the yard behind
the house and pretended to look to see if the crocuses were all
gone. But soon he went into the Garage and was there a half
hour.

     Now it is one of the rules of this Familey that no house
servants go to the Garage, owing to taking up the Chauffeur's
time when he should be oiling up, etcetera. Also owing to one
Butler stealing the Chauffeur's fur coat and never being seen
again.

     But alas, what am I to do? For although I reported this
being in the Garage to mother, she but said:

     "Don't worry me about him, Bab. He is hopelessly
inefficient. But there are no Men Servants to be had and we'll
have to get along."

     1 A. M. I have been on watch all evening, but everything is
quiet.

     I must now go to bed, as the Manual says, page 166:

     "Retire early and get a good night's rest."

     APRIL 16TH. In camp. Luncheon of sardines, pickels, and
eclairs as no one likes to cook, owing to smoke in the eyes,
etcetera.

     Camp convened at 12 noon, as we spent the morning helping
to get members of the Other Sex to enlist. We pinned a pink
Carnation on each Enlister, and had to send for more several
times. We had quite a Crowd there and it was very polite except
one, who said he would enlist twice for one kiss. The Officer
however took him by the ear and said the Army did not wish such
as he. He then through (threw?) him out.

     This morning I warned the new Chauffeur, feeling that if he
had by chance any Milatary Secrets in the Garage he should know
about William.

     "William!" he said, looking up from where he was in the
Repair Pit at the time. "_William_!"

     "I am sorry, Henry," I said, in a quiet voice. "But I fear
that William is not what he apears to be."

     "I think you must be mistaken, miss." He then hamered for
some time. When he was through he climbed out and said: "There's
to much Spy talk going on, to my thinking, miss. And anyhow,
what would a Spy be after in this house?"

     "Well," I observed, in an indignant manner, for I am
sensative and hate to have my word doubted, "as my father is in
a business which is now War Secrets and nothing else, I can
understand, if you can't."

     He then turned on the engine and made a terrable noise, to
see if hitting on all cylinders. When he shut it off I told him
about William spending a half hour in the Garage the day before.
Although calm before he now became white with anger and said:

     "Just let me catch him sneaking around here, and
I'll--what's he after me for anyhow? I haven't got any Milatary
Secrets."

     I then sugested that we work together, as I felt sure
William was after my father's blue prints and so on, which were
in the Dispach Case in the safe at night. He said he was not a
Spy-catcher, but if I caught William at any nonsense I might let
him know, and if he put a padlock on the outside of his door and
mother saw it and raised a fuss, I could stand up for him.

     I agreed to do so.

     10 P. M. Doctor Connor called this evening, to bring Sis a
pattern for a Surgicle Dressing. They spent to hours in the
Library looking at it. Mother is rather upset, as she thinks a
Doctor makes a poor husband, having to be out at night and never
able to go to Dinners owing to baby cases and so on.

     She said this to father, but I heard her and observed:

     "Mother, is a doctor then to have no Familey life, and only
to bring into the world other people's children?"

     She would usualy have replied to me, but she merely sighed,
as she is not like herself, being worried about father.

     She beleives that my Father's Life is in danger, as
although usualy making steel, which does not explode and is
therfore a safe business, he is now making shells, and every
time it has thundered this week she has ohserved:

     "The mill!"

     She refuses to be placated, although knowing that only
those known to the foremen can enter, as well as having a medal
with a number on it, and at night a Password which is new every
night.

     I know this, because we have this evening made up a list of
Passwords for the next week, using a magazine to get them out
of, and taking advertisements, such as Cocoa, Razers, Suspenders
and so on. Not these actualy but others like them.

     We then learned them off by heart and burned the paper, as
one cannot be to carefull with a Spy in the house, even if not
credited as such by my Parents.

     Have forgotten the Emblem. Must take it in.

     APRIL 17TH. In camp.

     Henry brought me out in the big car, as mine has a broken
spring owing to going across the field with it.

     He says he has decided to help me, and that I need not
watch the safe, etcetera, at night. I therfore gave him a key to
the side door, and now feel much better. He also said not to
have any of the Corps detailed to watch William in the daytime,
as he can do so, because the Familey is now spending all day at
the Red Cross.

     He thinks the Password idea fine, as otherwise almost
anybody could steal a medal and get into the mill.

     William seems to know that I know something, and this
morning, while opening the door for me, he said:

     "I beg pardon, Miss Bab, but I see Henry is driving you
today."

     "It is not hard to see," I replied, in a hauty manner. It
is not the Butler's business who is driving me, and anyhow I had
no intention of any unecessary conversation with a Spy.

     "Your own car being out of order, miss?"

     "It is," I retorted. "As you will probably be going to the
Garage, although against orders, while Henry is out, you can see
it yourself."

     I then went out and sat in front in order to converce with
Henry, as the back is lonely. I looked up at the door and
William was standing there, with a very queer look on his face.

     3 P. M. Mr. Schmidt is late and the Corps is practising,
having now got to K.

     Luncheon was a great surprize, as at 12:45 a car apeared on
the sky line and was reported by our Sentry as aproaching
rapidly.

     When it came near it was seen to be driven by Carter
Brooks, and to contain several baskets, etcetera. He then
dismounted and saluted and said:

     "The Commiseriat has sent me forward with the day's
rations, sir."

     "Very good," I returned, in an official manner. "Corps will
line up and count. Odd numbers to unpack and evens to set the
table."

     This of course was figurative, as we have no table, but eat
upon the ground.

     He then carried over the baskets and a freezer of ice
cream. He had brought a fruit salid, cold chicken, potatoe
Chips, cake and ice-cream. It was a delightful Repast, and not
soon to be forgotten by the Corps.

     Mademoiselle got out of the Adams's car and came over,
although she had her own lunch as usual. She then had the
Chauffeur carry over a seat cushion, and to see her one would
beleive she was always pleasant. I have no use for those who are
only pleasant in the presence of Food or Strangers.

     Carter Brooks sat beside me, and observed:

     "You see, Bab, although a Slacker myself, I cannot bear
that such brave spirits as those of the Girls' Aviation Corps
should go hungry."

     I then gave him a talking-to, saying that he had been a
great disapointment, as I thought one should rise to the
Country's Call and not wait until actualy needed, even when an
only son.

     He made no defence, but said in a serious tone:

     "You see, it's like this. I am not sure of myself, Bab. I
don't want to enlist because others of the Male Sex, as you
would say, are enlisting and I'm ashamed not to. And I don't
want to enlist just to wear a Unaform and get away from
business. I don't take it as lightly as all that."

     "Have you no Patriotism?" I demanded. "Can you repeat
unmoved the celabrated lines:

         "Lives there a man with Soul so dead,

          He (or who) never to himself hath said:

          This is my own, my Native Land."

     I then choked up, although being Captain I felt that tears
were a femanine weakness and a bad Example.

     Mademoiselle had at that moment felt an ant somewhere and
was not looking. Therfore she did not perceive when he reached
over and put his hand on my foot, which happened to be nearest
to him. He then pated my foot, and said:

     "What a nice kid you are!"

     It is strange, now that he and the baskets, etcetera, have
gone away, that I continue to think about his pating my foot.
Because I have known him for years, and he is nothing to me but
a good friend and not sentamental in any way.

     I feel this way. Suppose he enlists and goes away to die
for his Country, as a result of my Speach. Can I endure to think
of it? No. I did not feel this way about Tom Gray, who has gone
to Florida to learn to fly, although at one time thinking the
Sun rose and set on him. It is very queer.

     The Sentry reports Mr. Schmidt and the dogs coming over the
fense.

     EVENING. Doctor Connor is here again. He is taking Sis to
a meeting where he is to make a Speach. I ofered to go along,
but they did not apear to hear me, and perhaps it is as well,
for I must watch William, as Henry is taking them in the car. I
am therfore writing on the stairs, as I can then hear him
washing Silver in the pantrey.

     Mother has been very sweet to me this evening. I cannot
record how I feel about the change. I used to feel that she
loved me when she had time to do so, but that she had not much
time, being busy with Bridge, Dinners, taking Leila out and
Housekeeping, and so on. But now she has more time. Tonight she
said:

     "Bab, suppose we have a little talk. I have been thinking
all day what I would do if you were a boy, and took it into that
Patriotic head of yours to enlist. I couldn't bear it, that's
all."

     I was moved to tears by this afection on the part of my
dear Parent, but I remembered being Captain of the Corps, and so
did not weep. She then said that she would buy us an Emblem for
the Camp, and have a luncheon packed each day. She also ofered
me a wrist watch.

     I cannot but think what changes War can make, bringing
people together because of worry and danger, and causing gifts,
such as flags and watches, and ofering to come out and see us in
a day or so.

     It is now 9 P. M. and the mention of the flag has reminded
me that our own Emblem still fluters beneath the Starry Sky.

     LATER: William is now in the Garage. I am watching from the
window of the sowing room.

     The terrable thought comes--has he a wireless concealed
there, by which he sends out clandestine messages, perhaps to
Germany?

     This I know. He cannot get into Henry's room, as the
padlock is now on.

     LATER: He has returned, foiled!

     APRIL 18TH. Nothing new. Working hard at signaling. Mr.
Schmidt says I am doing well and if he was an Officer he would
give me a job.

     APRIL 19TH. Nothing new. But Doctor Connor had told Leila
that my father looks sick or at least not well. When I went to
him, being frightened, as he is my only Male Parent and very
dear to me, he only laughed and said:

     "Nonsense! We're rushed at the Mill, that's all. You see,
Bab, War is more than Unaforms and saluting. It is a nasty
Business. And of course, between your forgetting The Emblem
until midnight, when I am in my first sleep, and putting it out
at Dawn, I am not getting all the rest I really need."

     He then took my hand and said:

     "Bab, you haven't by any chance been in my Dispach Case for
anything, have you?"

     "Why? Is something missing?" I said in I startled tone.

     "No. But sometimes I think--however, never mind about that.
I think I'll take the Case upstairs and lock my door hereafter,
and if the Emblem is an hour or to late, we will have to stand
for it. Eight o'clock is early enough for any Flag, especialy if
it has been out late the night before."

     "Father" I said, in a tence voice. "I have before this
warned you, but you would not listen, considering me imature and
not knowing a Spy when I see one."

     I then told him what I knew about William, but he only
said:

     "Well, the only thing that matters is the Password, and
that cannot be stolen. As for William, I have had his record
looked up by the Police, and it is fine. Now go to bed, and send
in the Spy. I want a Scotch and Soda."

     APRIL 20TH. Henry and I have searched the Garage, but there
is no Wireless, unless in a Chimney. Henry says this is often
done, by Spies, who raise a Mast out of the chimney by night.

     To night I shall watch the Chimney, as there is an ark
light near it, so that it is as bright as Day.

     The cook has given notice, as she and William cannot get
along, and as he can only make to salids and those not cared for
by the other servants.

     APRIL 27TH. After eight days I am at last alowed this Log
or Journal, being supported with pillows while writing as Doctor
Connor says it will not hurt me.

     He has just gone, and I am sure kissed Leila in the hall
while Hannah and the nurse were getting pen, ink, etcetera.
Perhaps after all Romanse has at last come to my beloved sister,
who will now get married. If so, I can come out in November,
which is the best time, as December is busy with Xmas and so on.

     How shall I tell the tradgic story of that night? How can
I put, by means of a pen, my Experiences on paper? There are
some things which may not be written, but only felt, and that
mostly afterwards, as during the time one is to excited to feel.

     On April 21st, Saturday, I had a bad cold and was not
allowed to go to camp. I therfore slept most of the day, being
one to sleep easily in daytime, except for Hannah coming in to
feel if I was feverish.

     My father did not come home to dinner, and later on
telephoned that he was not to be looked for until he arived,
owing to somthing very important at the Mill and a night shift
going on for the first time.

     We ate Dinner without him, and mother was very nervous and
kept saying that with foremen and so on she did not see why
father should have to kill himself.

     Ye gods! Had we but realised the Signifacance of that
remark! But we did not, but went to living in a Fool's Paradice,
and complaining because William had put to much vinigar in the
French Dressing.

     William locked up the house and we retired to our Chambers.
But as I had slept most of the day I could not compose myself to
Slumber, but sat up in my robe de nuit and reflected about
Carter Brooks, and that perhaps it would be better for him not
to enlist as there is plenty to be done here at home, where one
is safe from bullets, machine guns and so on. Because, although
not Sentamental about him or silly in any way, I felt that he
should not wish to go into danger if his mother objected. And
after all one must consider mothers and other Parents.

     I put a dressing gown over my _robe de nuit_, and having
then remembered about the Wireless, I put out my light and sat
in the window seat. But there was no Mast to be seen, and
nothing but the ark light swinging.

     I then saw some one come in the drive and go back to the
Garage, but as Henry has a friend who has been out of work and
sleeps with him, although not told to the Familey, as probably
objecting,--although why I could not see, since he used half of
Henry's bed and therfore cost nothing--I considered that it was
he.

     It was not, however, as I shall now record in this Log or
Journal.

     I had perhaps gone to sleep in my place of watching, when
I heard a rapping at my Chamber door. "Only this and nothing
more." Poe--The Raven.

     I at once opened the door, and it was the cook. She said
that Henry had returned from the mill with a pain in his ear,
and had telephoned to her by the house 'phone to bring over a
hot water bottle, as father was driving himself home when ready.

     She then said that if I would go over with her to the
Garage and drop some laudinum into his ear, she being to
nervous, and also taking my hot water bottle, she would be
grateful.

     Although not fond of her, owing to her giving notice and
also being very fussy about cake taken from the pantrey, I am
one to go always where needed. I also felt that a member of the
Corps should not shirk Duty, even a Chauffeur's ear. I therfore
got my hot water bottle and some slippers, etcetera, and we went
to the Garage.

     I went up the stairs to Henry's room, but what was my
surprize to find him not there, but only his friend. I then
said:

     "Where is Henry?"

     The cook was behind me, and she said:

     "He is coming. He has to walk around because it aches so."

     Then Henry's friend said, in a queer voice:

     "Now, Miss Bab, there is nothing to be afraid of, unless
you make a noise. If you do there will be trouble and that at
once. We three are going to have a little talk."

     Ye gods! I tremble even to remember his words, for he said:

     "What we want is simple enough. We want tonight's Password
at the Mill. _Don't scream_."

     I dropped the hot water bottle, because there is no use
pretending one is not scared at such a time. One is. But of
course I would not tell them the Password, and the cook said:

     "Be careful, Miss Bab. We are not playing. We are in
terrable ernest."

     She did not sound like a cook at all, and she looked
diferent, being very white and with to red spots on her cheeks.

     "So am I," I responded, although with shaking teeth. "And
just wait until the Police hear of this and see what happens.
You will all be arested. If I scream----"

     "If you scream," said Henry's friend in an awful voice,
"you will never scream again."

     There was now a loud report from below, which the neighbors
afterwards said they heard, but considered gas in a muffler,
which happens often and sounds like a shot. There was then a
sort of low growl and somebody fell with a thump. Then the cook
said to Henry's friend:

     "Jump out of the window. They've got him!"

     But he did not jump, but listened, and we then heard Henry
saying:

     "Come down here, quick."

     Henry's friend then went downstairs very rapidly, and I ran
to the window thinking to jump out. But it was closed and
locked, and anyhow the cook caught me and said, in a hissing
manner:

     "None of that, you little fool."

     I had never been so spoken to, especially by a cook, and it
made me very angry. I then threw the bottle of laudinum at her,
and broke a front tooth, also cutting her lip, although I did
not know this until later, as I then fainted.

     When I came to I was on the floor and William, whom I had
considered a Spy, was on the bed with his hands and feet tied.
Henry was standing by the door, with a revolver, and he said:

     "I'm sorry, Miss Bab, because you are all right and have
helped me a lot, especially with that on the bed. If it hadn't
been for you our Goose would have been cooked."

     He then picked me up and put me in a chair, and looked at
his watch.

     "Now," he said, "we'll have that Password, because time is
going and there are things to be done, quite a few of them."

     I could see William then, and I saw his eyes were partly
shut, and that he had been shot, because of blood, etcetera. I
was about to faint again, as the sight of blood makes me sick at
the stomache, but Henry held a bottle of amonia under my nose
and said in a brutal way:

     "Here, none of that."

     I then said that I would not tell the Password, although
killed for it, and he said if I kept up that attitude I would
be, because they were desperate and would stop at nothing.

     "There is no use being stubborn," he said, "because we are
going to get that Password, and the right one to, because if the
wrong one you, to, will be finished off in short order."

     As I was now desperate myself I decided to shriek, happen
what may. But I had merely opened my mouth to when he sprang at
me and put his hand over my mouth. He then said he would be
obliged to gag me, and that when I made up my mind to tell the
Password, if I would nod my Head he would then remove the gag.
As I grew pale at these words he threw up a window, because air
prevents fainting.

     He then tied a towel around my mouth and lips, putting part
of it between my teeth, and tied it in a hard knot behind. He
also tied my hands behind me, although I kicked as hard as
possable, and can do so very well, owing to skating and so on.

     How awfull were my sensations as I thus sat facing Death,
and remembering that I had often been excused from Chapel when
not necesary, and had been confirmed while pretending to know
the Creed while not doing so. Also not always going to Sunday
School as I should, and being inclined to skip my Prayers when
very tired.

     We sat there for a long time, which seemed Eternities,
Henry making dreadful threats, and holding a revolver. But I
would not tell the Password, and at last he went out, locking
the door behind him, to consult with the other Spies.

     I then heard a whisper, and saw that William was not dead.
He said:

     "Here, quick. I'll unloose your hands and you can drop out
the window."

     He did so, but just in time, as Henry returned, looking
fierce and saying that I had but fifteen minutes more. I was
again in my chair, and he did not percieve that my hands were
now untied.

     I must stop here, as my hands tremble to much to hold my
trusty pen.

     APRIL 28TH. Leila has just been in. She kissed me in a
fraternal manner, and I then saw that she wore an engagement
ring. Well, such is Life. We only get realy acquainted with our
Families when they die, or get married.

     Doctor Connor came in a moment later and kissed me to,
calling me his brave little Sister.

     How pleasant it is to lie thus, having wine jelatine and
squab and so on, and wearing a wrist watch with twenty-seven
diamonds, and mother using the vibrator on my back to make me
sleepy, etcetera. Also, to know that when one's father returns
he will say:

     "Well, how is the Patriot today?" and not smile while
saying it.

     I have recorded in this journal up to where I had got my
hands loose, and Henry was going to shoot me in fifteen minutes.

     We have thus come to Mr. Schmidt.

     Suddenly Henry swore in an angry manner. This was because
my father had brought the machine home and was but then coming
along the drive. Had he come alone it would have been the end of
him and the Mill, for Henry and his friend would have caught
him, and my father is like me--he would die before giving the
Password and blowing up all the men and so on in the Mill. But
he brought the manager with him, as he lives out of town and
there is no train after midnight.

     My father said:

     "Henry!"

     So Henry replied:

     "Coming, sir" and went out, but again locked the door.

     Before he went out he said:

     "Now mind, any noise up here and we will finish you and
your father also. _Don't you overturn a chair by mistake, young
lady_."

     He then went down, and I could hear my dear Parent's voice
which I felt I would probably never hear again, discussing new
tires and Henry's earache, which was not a real one, as I now
knew.

     I looked at William, but he had his eyes shut and I saw he
was now realy unconscious. I then however heard a waggon in our
alley, and I went to the window. What was my joy to see that it
was Mr. Schmidt's milk waggon which had stopped under the ark
light, with he himself on the seat. He was getting some milk
bottles out, and I suppose he heard the talking in our Garage,
for he stopped and then looked up. Then he dropped a milk
bottle, but he stood still and stared.

     With what anguished eyes, dear Log or Journal, did I look
down at him, unable to speak or utter a sound. I then tried to
untie the Towle but could not, owing to feeling weak and sick
and the knots being hard.

     I at one moment thought of jumping out, but it was to far
for our Garage was once a Stable and is high. But I knew that if
the Criminals who surounded my Father and the manager heard such
a sound, they would then attack my Father and kill him.

     I was but a moment thinking all this, as my mind is one to
work fast when in Danger. Mr. Schmidt was still staring, and the
horse was moving on to the next house, as Mr. Schmidt says it
knows all his Customers and could go out alone if necesary.

     It was then that I remembered that, although I could not
speak, I could signal him, although having no flags. I therfore
signaled, saying:

     "Quiet. Spies. Bring police."

     It was as well that he did not wait for the last to
letters, as I could not remember C, being excited and worried at
the time. But I saw him get into his waggon and drive away very
fast, which no one in the Garage noticed, as milk waggons were
not objects of suspicion.

     How strange it was to sit down again as if I had not moved,
as per orders, and hear my Father whistling as he went to the
house. I began to feel very sick at my Stomache, although glad
he was safe, and wondered what they would do without me. Because
I had now seen that, although insisting that I was still a
child, I was as dear to them as Leila, though in a different
way.

     I had not cried as yet, but at the thought of Henry's
friend and the others coming up to kill me before Mr. Schmidt
could get help, I shed a few tears.

     They all came back as soon as my Father had slamed the
house door, and if they had been feirce before they were awfull
then, the cook with a handkerchief to her mouth, and Henry's
friend getting out a watch and giving me five minutes. He had
counted three minutes and was holding his Revolver to just
behind my ear, when I heard the milk waggon coming back, with
the horse galloping.

     It stopped in the alley, and the cook said, in a dreadfull
voice:

     "What's that?"

     She dashed to the Window, and looked out, and then turned
to the other Spies and said:

     "The Police!"

     I do not know what happened next, as I fainted again,
having been under a strain for some time.

     I must now stop, as mother has brought the Vibrater.

     APRIL 29TH. All the people in my father's Mill have gone
together and brought me a riding horse. I have just been to the
window of my Chamber to look at it. I have always wanted a
horse, but I cannot see that I deserve this one, having but done
what any member of the G. A. C. should do.

     As I now have a horse, perhaps the Corps should become
Cavalry. Memo: Take this up with Jane.

     LATER: Carter Brooks has just gone, and I have a terrable
headache owing to weeping, which always makes my head ache.

     He has gone to the War.

     I cannot write more.

     10 P. M. I can now think better, although still weeping at
intervals. I must write down all that has happened, as I do not
feel like telling Jane, or indeed anybody.

     Always before I have had no Secrets from Jane, even in
matters of the Other Sex. But I feel very strange about this and
like thinking about it rather than putting it into speach.

     Also I feel very kind toward everybody, and wish that I had
been a better girl in many ways. I have tried to be good, and
have never smoked cigarettes or been decietful except when
forced to be by the Familey not understanding. But I know I am
far from being what Carter Brooks thinks me to be.

     I have called Hannah and given her my old watch, with money
to for a new chrystal. Also stood by at Salute while my father
brought in the Emblem. For William can no longer do it, as he
was not really a Butler at all but a Secret Service Inspector,
and also being still in the Hospital, although improving.

     He had not told the Familey, as he was afraid they would
not then treat him as a real Butler. As for the code in the
pantrey, it was really not such, but the silver list, beginning
with 48 D. K. or dinner knives, etcetera. When taking my
Father's Dispach Case from the safe, it was to keep the real
Spies from getting it. He did it every night, and took the
important papers out until morning, when he put them back.

     To-night my father brought in the Emblem and folded it. He
then said:

     "Well, I admit that Fathers are not real Substatutes for
young men in Unaform, but in times of Grief they may be mighty
handy to tie to." He then put his arms around me and said: "You
see, Bab, the real part of War, for a woman--and you are that
now, Bab, in spite of your years--the real thing she has to do
is not the fighting part, although you are about as good a
soldier as any I know. The thing she has to do is to send some
one she cares about, and then sit back and wait."

     As he saw that I was agatated, he then kissed me and
sugested that we learn something more than the first verse of
the National Hymn, as he was tired of making his lips move and
thus pretending to sing when not actualy doing so.

     I shall now record about Carter Brooks coming today. I was
in a chair with pilows and so on, when Leila came in and kissed
me, and then said:

     "Bab, are you able to see a caller?"

     I said yes, if not the Police, as I had seen a great many
and was tired of telling about Henry and Henry's friend,
etcetera.

     "Not the Police," she said.

     She then went out in the hall and said:

     "Come up. It's all right."

     I then saw a Soldier in the door, and could not beleive
that it was Carter Brooks, until he saluted and said:

     "Captain, I have come to report. Owing to the end of the
Easter Holadays the Girls' Aviation Corps----"

     I could no longer be silent. I cried:

     "Oh, Carter!"

     So he came into the room and turned round, saying:

     "Some soldier, eh?"

     Leila had gone out, and all at once I knew that my
Patriotism was not what I had thought it, for I could not bear
to see him going to War, especialy as his mother would be lonly
without him.

     Although I have never considered myself weak, I now felt
that I was going to cry. I therfore said in a low voice to give
me a Handkercheif, and he gave me one of his.

     "Why, look here," he said, in an astounded manner, "you
aren't crying about_ me_, are you?"

     I said from behind his Handkercheif that I was not, except
being sorry for his mother and also for him on account of Leila.

     "Leila!" he said. "What about Leila?"

     "She is lost to you forever," I replied in a choking tone.
"She is betrothed to another."

     He became very angry at that, and observed:

     "Look here, Bab. One minute I think you are the cleverest
Girl in the World, and the next--you little stuped, do you still
insist on thinking that I am in love with Leila?"

     At that time I began to feel very queer, being week and at
the same time excited and getting red, the more so as he pulled
the Handkercheif from my eyes and commanded me: "Bab, look at
me. Do I _look_ as though I care for Leila?"

     I, however, could not look at him just then. Because I felt
that I could not endure to see the Unaform.

     "Don't you know why I hang around this House?" he said, in
a very savige manner. "Because if you don't everybody else
does."

     Dear Log or Journal, I could but think of one thing, which
was that I was not yet out, but still what is called a Sub-Deb,
and so he was probably only joking, or perhaps merely playing
with me.

     I said so, in a low tone, but he only gave a Groan and
said:

     "I know you are not out and all the rest of it. Don't I lie
awake at night knowing it? And that's the reason I----" Here he
stopped and said: "Damm it" in a feirce voice. "Very well," he
went on. "I came to say Good-bye, and to ask you if you will
write to me now and then. Because I'm going to War half because
the Country needs me and the other half because I'm not going to
disapoint a certain young Person who has a way of expecting
people to be better than they are."

     He then very suddenly stood up and said:

     "I guess I'd better go. And don't you dare to cry, because
if you do there will be Trouble."

     But I could not help it, as he was going to War for my
Native Land, and might never come back. I therfore asked for his
Handkercheif again, but he did not listen. He only said:

     "You are crying, and I warned you."

     He then stooped over and put his hand under my Chin and
said:

     "Good-bye, sweetheart."

     _And kissed me_.

     He went out at once, slaming the door, and passed Leila in
the lower Hall without speaking to her.

     APRIL 30TH. I now intend to close this Log or Journal, and
write no more in it. I am not going back to school, but am to
get strong and well again, and to help mother at the Red Cross.
I wish to do this, as it makes me feel usefull and keeps me from
worrying.

     After all, I could not realy care for any one who would not
rise to the Country's Call.

     MAY 3RD. I have just had a letter from Carter. It is mostly
about blisters on his feet and so on, and is not exactly a love
letter. But he ends with this, which I shall quote, and so end
this Dairy:

     "After all, Bab, perhaps we all needed this. I know I did.

     "I want to ask you something. Do you remember the time you
wrote me that you were _blited_ and I sugested that we be blited
together. How about changing that a bit, and being _plited_.
Because if I am not cheered by something of the sort, my
Patriotism is going to ooze out of the blisters on my heels."

     I have thought about this all day, and I have no right to
ruin his Career. I beleive that the Army should be encouraged as
much as possible. I have therefore sent him a small drawing,
copied from the Manual, like this

{1" tall figure of a man holding semifore flags -- his right arm
is to the right and his left arm is up}

Which means "Afirmative"

[End.]
.