ward the cracked mirror between the windows, apparently
intent upon capturing an airy tendril of hair which had escaped
confinement.

"That's real sensible, Fanny," approved Mrs. Dodge with perfunctory
cheerfulness. "I want you should go out all you can, whilest you're
young, an' have a good time."

Jim Dodge was silent; but the scowl between his eyes deepened.

Mrs. Dodge formed three words with her lips, as she shook her head at
him warningly.

Fanny burst into a sudden ringing laugh.

"Oh, I can see you in the glass, mother," she cried. "I don't care
what Jim says to me; he can say anything he likes."

[Illustration: "Oh, I can see you in the glass, mother," she cried.]

Her beautiful face, half turned over her shoulder, quivered slightly.

"If you knew how I--" she began, then stopped short.

"That's just what I was saying to Jim," put in her mother eagerly.

The girl flung up both hands in a gesture of angry protest.

"Please don't talk about me, mother--to Jim, or anybody. Do you
hear?"

Her voice shrilled suddenly loud and harsh, like an untuned string
under the bow.

Jim Dodge flung his hat on his head with an impatient exclamation.

"Come on, Fan," he said roughly. "Nobody's going to bother you. Don't
you worry."

Mrs. Dodge had gone back to her kneading board and was thumping the
dough with regular slapping motions of her capable hands, but her
thin dark face was drawn into a myriad folds and puckers of anxiety.

Fanny stooped and brushed the lined forehead with her fresh young
lips.

"Goodnight, mother," said she. "I wish you were going."

She drew back a little and looked down at her mother, smiling
brilliantly.

"And don't you worry another minute about me, mother," she said
resolutely. "I'm all right."

"Oh, I do hope so, child," returned her mother, sniffing back her
ready tears. "I'd hate to feel that you--"

The girl hurried to the door, where her brother stood watching her.

"Come on, Jim," she said. "We have to stop for Ellen."

She followed him down the narrow path to the gate, holding her crisp
white skirts well away from the dew-drenched border. As the two
emerged upon the road, lying white before them under the brilliant
moonlight, Fanny glanced up timidly at her brother's dimly seen
profile under the downward sweep of his hat-brim.

"It's real dusty, isn't it?" said she, by way of breaking a silence
she found unbearable. "It'll make my shoes look horrid."

"Walk o