r was full of
women. In reality there were only three--Lucy, her mother, and Rose.

When Rose had rung the door-bell she had been surprised by what
sounded like a mad rush to answer her ring. Mrs. Ayres opened the
door. She looked white and perturbed, and behind her showed Lucy's
face, flushed and angry.

"I knew it was Miss Fletcher; I told you so, mother," said Lucy, and
her low, sweet voice rang out like an angry bird's with a sudden
break for the high notes.

Mrs. Ayres kept her self-possession of manner, although her
face showed not only nervousness but something like terror.
"Good-afternoon, Miss Fletcher," she said. "Please walk in."

"She said for me to call her Rose," cried Lucy. "Please come in,
Rose. I am glad to see you."

In spite of the cordial words the girl's voice was strange. Rose
stared from daughter to mother and back again. "If you were engaged,"
she said, rather coldly, "if you would prefer that I come some other
time--"

"No, indeed," cried Lucy, "no other time. Yes, every other time. What
am I saying? But I want you now, too. Come right up to my room, Rose.
I know you will excuse my wrapper and my bed's being tumbled. I have
been lying down. Come right up."

Rose followed Lucy, and to her astonishment became aware that Lucy's
mother was following her. Mrs. Ayres entered the room with the two
girls. Lucy looked impatiently at her, and spoke as Rose wondered any
daughter could speak. "Rose and I have some things to talk over,
mother," she said.

"Nothing, I guess, that your mother cannot hear," returned Mrs.
Ayres, with forced pleasantry. She sat down, and Lucy flung herself
petulantly upon the bed, where she had evidently been lying, but
seemingly not reposing, for it was much rumpled, and the pillows gave
evidence of the restless tossing of a weary head. Lucy herself had a
curiously rumpled aspect, though she was not exactly untidy. Her
soft, white, lace-trimmed wrapper carelessly tied with blue ribbons
was wrinkled, her little slippers were unbuttoned. Her mass of soft
hair was half over her shoulders. There were red spots on the cheeks
which had been so white in the morning, and her eyes shone. She kept
tying and untying two blue ribbons at the neck of her wrapper as she
lay on the bed and talked rapidly.

"I look like a fright, I know," she said. "I was tired after church,
and slipped off my dress and lay down. My hair is all in a muss."

"It is such lovely hair that it looks pre