to the mind of man. I wonder they pay you
for doing it--they ought to offer it as a reward! Oh, Marge, you'll
kill me! Now, you might as well be honest, my child. You know you
always tell me things eventually--why not now? What are your plans,
and did Francis bring any souvenirs? I told him to be sure to bring
back some of that French perfume that you wouldn't let him get you
because it was too expensive for his income. I wonder he ever
respected you again after that, incidentally. Did he?"

"Did he respect me? I don't know, I'm sure," said Marjorie
dispiritedly. She knew that she would tell Lucille all about it in two
more minutes, and she did not want to.

"No, darling! Did he bring the perfume?"

"I don't know," said Marjorie. "Lucille, you haven't had your bath
yet."

"Did you light the hot water for me?"

"No, I forgot," said Marjorie.

"All right, I'll light it," said Lucille amiably. She was deflected by
this, and trotted out into the tiny kitchen to light the gas under the
hot water heater. She came back in an exquisite blue crepe negligee,
and curled herself back of Marjorie on the davenport while she waited
for the water to heat, and for Marjorie to tell her about it all.

"I wish my hair curled naturally," she said idly, slipping her fingers
up the back of Marjorie's neck, where little fly-away rings always
curled.

"I wish it did," said Marjorie with absent impoliteness.

Lucille laughed again.

"Come back, dear! Remember, I haven't any happy reunion to weep over
yet, and be sympathetic. And I have an engagement for dinner, and how
will I ever keep it if you don't tell me everything Francis said? When
did he see Billy last?"

"He didn't say."

"What _did_ he say?"

"He said," said Marjorie, turning around with blazing eyes and pouring
forth her words like a fountain, "that he'd wondered if I really loved
him, and now he was sure I didn't. And that he'd come back some time
to-morrow and discuss details. And he gave me his telephone number,
and said he couldn't stay any longer, and it was pretty bad, and he had
to curl up----"

"Marjorie! Marjorie! Stop! This is a bad dream you've had, or
something out of _Alice in Wonderland_! Francis never said he had to
curl up. Curl up _what_?"

"Curl up himself, I suppose," said Marjorie with something very like a
sob. "I was perfectly rational and it made me feel dreadful to hear
him say it, and I knew just what he meant. Cu