ed.

"That's exactly what I do mean."

The butterfly smile about Lucy's mouth had vanished. That straightening
of the lips and slow contraction of the brow which Jane knew so well
was taking its place. Then she added nervously, unclasping her hands
and picking up her gloves:

"Aren't you pleased?"

"I don't know," answered Jane, gazing about the room with a dazed look,
as if seeking for a succor she could not find. "I must think. And so
you have promised to marry Max!" she repeated, as if to herself. "And
in December." For a brief moment she paused, her eyes again downcast;
then she raised her voice quickly and in a more positive tone asked,
"And what do you mean to do with Ellen?"

"That's what I want to talk to you about, you dear thing." Lucy had
come prepared to ignore any unfavorable criticisms Jane might make and
to give her only sisterly affection in return. "I want to give her to
you for a few months more," she added blandly, "and then we will take
her abroad with us and send her to school either in Paris or Geneva,
where her grandmother can be near her. In a year or two she will come
to us in Paris."

Jane made no answer.

Lucy moved uncomfortably in her chair. She had never, in all her life,
seen her sister in any such mood. She was not so much astonished over
her lack of enthusiasm regarding the engagement; that she had
expected--at least for the first few days, until she could win her over
to her own view. It was the deadly poise--the icy reserve that
disturbed her. This was new.

"Lucy!" Again Jane stopped and looked out of the window. "You remember
the letter I wrote you some years ago, in which I begged you to tell
Ellen's father about Archie and Barton Holt?"

Lucy's eyes flashed.

"Yes, and you remember my answer, don't you?" she answered sharply.
"What a fool I would have been, dear, to have followed your advice!"

Jane went straight on without heeding the interruption or noticing
Lucy's changed tone.

"Do you intend to tell Max?"

"I tell Max! My dear, good sister, are you crazy! What should I tell
Max for? All that is dead and buried long ago! Why do you want to dig
up all these graves? Tell Max--that aristocrat! He's a dear, sweet
fellow, but you don't know him. He'd sooner cut his hand off than marry
me if he knew!"

"I'm afraid you will have to--and this very day," rejoined Jane in a
calm, measured tone.

Lucy moved uneasily in her chair; her anxiety had given way to a
certai