oorway, seemed akin to some devilish enchantment.

Joscelyn, rapt away from her surroundings, did not perceive her
grandparents. Her face was turned from them and she was addressing an
unseen auditor in passionate denunciation. She spoke, moved, posed,
gesticulated, with an inborn genius shining through every motion and
tone like an illuminating lamp.

"Josie, what are you doing?"

It was Cyrus who spoke, advancing into the room like a stern, hard
impersonation of judgment. Joscelyn's outstretched arm fell to her
side and she turned sharply around; fear came into her face and the
light went out of it. A moment before she had been a woman, splendid,
unafraid; now she was again the schoolgirl, too confused and shamed to
speak.

"What are you doing, Josie?" asked her grandfather again, "dressed up
in that indecent manner and talking and twisting to yourself?"

Joscelyn's face, that had grown pale, flamed scarlet again. She lifted
her head proudly.

"I was trying Aunt Annice's part in her new play," she answered. "I
have not been doing anything wrong, Grandfather."

"Wrong! It's your mother's blood coming out in you, girl, in spite of
all our care! Where did you get that play?"

"Aunt Annice sent it to me," answered Joscelyn, casting a quick glance
at the book on the table. Then, when her grandfather picked it up
gingerly, as if he feared contamination, she added quickly, "Oh, give
it to me, please, Grandfather. Don't take it away."

"I am going to burn it," said Cyrus Morgan sternly.

"Oh, don't, Grandfather," cried Joscelyn, with a sob in her voice.
"Don't burn it, please. I ... I ... won't practise out of it any more.
I'm sorry I've displeased you. Please give me my book."

"No," was the stern reply. "Go to your room, girl, and take off that
rig. There is to be no more play-acting in my house, remember that."

He flung the book into the fire that was burning in the grate. For the
first time in her life Joscelyn flamed out into passionate defiance.

"You are cruel and unjust, Grandfather. I have done no wrong ... it is
not doing wrong to develop the one gift I have. It's the only thing I
can do ... and I am going to do it. My mother was an actress and a
good woman. So is Aunt Annice. So I mean to be."

"Oh, Josie, Josie," said her grandmother in a scared voice. Her
grandfather only repeated sternly, "Go, take that rig off, girl, and
let us hear no more of this."

Joscelyn went but she left consternation