ly don't believe he ever has," she said. "Of course we
must----" She paused, debating.

"We must what?"

"I guess I better talk to Alice about it right now," she said. "He don't
usually come for about half an hour yet; I guess I've got time." And
with that she walked away, leaving him to his puzzles.

CHAPTER XIX

Alice was softly crooning to herself as her mother turned the corner of
the house and approached through the dusk.

"Isn't it the most BEAUTIFUL evening!" the daughter said. "WHY can't
summer last all year? Did you ever know a lovelier twilight than this,
mama?"

Mrs. Adams laughed, and answered, "Not since I was your age, I expect."

Alice was wistful at once. "Don't they stay beautiful after my age?"

"Well, it's not the same thing."

"Isn't it? Not ever?"

"You may have a different kind from mine," the mother said, a little
sadly. "I think you will, Alice. You deserve----"

"No, I don't. I don't deserve anything, and I know it. But I'm getting
a great deal these days--more than I ever dreamed COULD come to me.
I'm--I'm pretty happy, mama!"

"Dearie!" Her mother would have kissed her, but Alice drew away.

"Oh, I don't mean----" She laughed nervously. "I wasn't meaning to
tell you I'm ENGAGED, mama. We're not. I mean--oh! things seem pretty
beautiful in spite of all I've done to spoil 'em."

"You?" Mrs. Adams cried, incredulously. "What have you done to spoil
anything?"

"Little things," Alice said. "A thousand little silly--oh, what's
the use? He's so honestly what he is--just simple and good and
intelligent--I feel a tricky mess beside him! I don't see why he likes
me; and sometimes I'm afraid he wouldn't if he knew me."

"He'd just worship you," said the fond mother. "And the more he knew
you, the more he'd worship you."

Alice shook her head. "He's not the worshiping kind. Not like that at
all. He's more----"

But Mrs. Adams was not interested in this analysis, and she interrupted
briskly, "Of course it's time your father and I showed some interest in
him. I was just saying I actually don't believe he's ever been inside
the house."

"No," Alice said, musingly; "that's true: I don't believe he has. Except
when we've walked in the evening we've always sat out here, even those
two times when it was drizzly. It's so much nicer."

"We'll have to do SOMETHING or other, of course," her mother said.

"What like?"

"I was thinking----" Mrs. Adams paused. "Well, of course we could