the
door into Jim's room, looking maudlin while he shouted love messages to
her from the other side. At first she refused to stir, but after Anne
and Max had tried and failed, the rest of us went to her in a body and
implored her. We said Aunt Selina was in awful shape--which she was, as
to temper--and that she had thrown a mustard plaster at Anne, which was
true.

So Bella went, grumbling, and Jim was a maniac. We had not thought it
would be so bad for Bella, but Aunt Selina fell asleep soon after she
took charge, holding Bella's hand, and slept for three hours and never
let go!

About two that afternoon the sun came out, and the rest of us went
to the roof. The sleet had melted and the air was fairly warm. Two
housemaids dusting rugs on the top of the next house came over and
stared at us, and somebody in an automobile down on Riverside Drive
stood up and waved at us. It was very cheerful and hopelessly lonely.

I stayed on the roof after the others had gone, and for some time I
thought I was alone. After a while, I got a whiff of smoke, and then
I saw Mr. Harbison far over in the corner, one foot on the parapet,
moodily smoking a pipe. He was gazing out over the river, and paying no
attention to me. This was natural, considering that I had hardly spoken
to him all day.

I would not let him drive me away, so I sat still, and it grew darker
and colder. He filled his pipe now and then, but he never looked in my
direction. Finally, however, as it grew very dusk, he knocked the ashes
out and came toward me.

"I am going to make a request, Miss McNair," he said evenly. "Please
keep off the roof after sunset. There are--reasons." I had risen and was
preparing to go downstairs.

"Unless I know the reasons, I refuse to do anything of the kind," I
retorted. He bowed.

"Then the door will be kept locked," he rejoined, and opened it for me.
He did not follow me, but stood watching until I was down, and I heard
him close the roof door firmly behind me.

Chapter XXI. A BAR OF SOAP

Late that evening Betty Mercer and Dallas were writing verses of
condolence to be signed by all of us and put under the door into Jim's
room when Bella came running down the stairs.

Dal was reading the first verse when she came. "Listen to this, Bella,"
he said triumphantly:

"There was a fat artist named Jas,
Who cruelly called his friends nas.
When, altho' shut up tight,
He broke out over night
With a ras