but play 'Annie Laurie' and
'We'd Better Bide a Wee' over and over on that music box. Jake hasn't
figured it out yet.

"Why, Grandma, there's some thinks maybe Cynthia's son has brought back
some Indian magic. They say India's chuckful of it--but law--it'll
take more than magic to save little Jim Tumley, for he's beginning
again. While the minister kept close he was all right but the
housewarming and that poolroom took up time, and then Jim's sister,
Mrs. Hoskins, got sick and Jim goes there to play and sing to her, and
you know what George Hoskins is. He must have his drink and offer
visitors some--and poor Jim--just the smell of it knocks him out. The
minister says Jim must be saved. But how's it to be done, tell me
that? There ain't anything smart or knowing about me, but the
minister'll never save Jim Tumley less'n he kills off a few of our
comfortable, respectable drinkers and closes up the hotel. And I tell
you, nobody but God Almighty could make this town dry."

"Well, Fanny," smiled Grandma, "I've noticed that if there ever is a
job that nobody but the Almighty can handle, He generally takes it in
hand and settles it."

CHAPTER XVI

THE HOUSEWARMING

Jocelyn Brownlee was dressing for the minister's party. She was laying
out the prettiest of her pretty things and sighing as she did it. For
what two months before would have seemed a joyous occasion was now
nothing but a painful, trying ordeal, an ordeal that must, however, be
gallantly gone through with.

Ever since that afternoon when she had stood on the back porch waving
joyfully to David and received no answer her world had lost its color.
All the rose and gold had faded and she stood lonely and lost and cold
in a mist of mystery.

She had seen David since that day, had even spoken to him. But her
words were few and full of a gracious courtesy that put a whole wide
world between them.

"Are you going to the minister's housewarming, Jocelyn?" David had
asked painfully. He had realized the raw cruelty of that afternoon and
had come over to explain and make amends.

"Yes--I'm going, David. All the town will be there, won't it?" she had
answered and asked gently.

"Shall I stop for you?" begged the big boy.

"Why, no, David--thank you. I shall not need an escort. It's such a
little way and I'm used to Green Valley now." But David knew just how
afraid this city mouse was of the country roads at night.

She was such a gracious