halted on the
threshold in surprise. Cora was dressing.

"Mamma says the doctor says he's all right," said Cora lightly,
"and I'm feeling so much better myself I thought I'd put on
something loose and go downstairs. I think there's more air down
there."

"Papa isn't all right, dear," said Laura, staring perplexedly at
Cora's idea of "something loose," an equipment inclusive of
something particularly close. "The doctor says he is very sick."

"I don't believe it," returned Cora promptly. "Old Sloane never
did know anything. Besides, mamma told me he said papa isn't in
any danger."

"No `immediate' danger," corrected Laura. "And besides, Doctor
Sloane said you were to stay in bed until to-morrow."

"I can't help that." Cora went on with her lacing impatiently.
"I'm not going to lie and stifle in this heat when I feel
perfectly well again--not for an old idiot like Sloane! He didn't
even have sense enough to give me any medicine." She laughed.
"Lucky thing he didn't: I'd have thrown it out of the window. Kick
that slipper to me, will you, dear?"

Laura knelt and put the slipper on her sister's foot. "Cora,
dear," she said, "you're just going to put on a negligee and go
down and sit in the library, aren't you?"

"Laura!" The tone was more than impatient. "I wish I could be let
alone for five whole minutes some time in my life! Don't you think
I've stood enough for one day? I can't bear to be questioned,
questioned, questioned! What do you do it for? Don't you see I
can't stand anything more? If you can't let me alone I do wish
you'd keep out of my room."

Laura rose and went out; but as she left the door, Cora called
after her with a rueful laugh: "Laura, I know I'm a little devil!"

Half an hour later, Laura, suffering because she had made no reply
to this peace-offering, and wishing to atone, sought Cora
downstairs and found no one. She decided that Cora must still be
in her own room; she would go to her there. But as she passed the
open front door, she saw Cora upon the sidewalk in front of the
house. She wore a new and elaborate motoring costume, charmingly
becoming, and was in the act of mounting to a seat beside
Valentine Corliss in a long, powerful-looking, white "roadster"
automobile. The engine burst into staccato thunder, sobered down;
the wheels began to move both Cora and Corliss were laughing and
there was an air of triumph about them--Cora's veil streamed and
fluttered: and in a flash they were