"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 pa.s.sing 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 s.e.x. But that has pa.s.sed 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 gla.s.sy 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 s.e.x 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 pa.s.s lightly over what followed. Why is it that a girl cannot speak of Love without every member of the Other s.e.x 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.

"h.e.l.lo!" 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:

"n.o.body understands me. n.o.body. 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.