oom, a chafing dish aiding. Afterward
Valerie went over her weekly accounts and had now taken up her regular
mending; and there she sat, sewing away, and singing in her clear, young
voice, the old madrigal:

"_Let us dry the starting tear
For the hours are surely fleeting
And the sad sundown is near.
All must sip the cup of sorrow,
I to-day, and thou to-morrow!
This the end of every song,
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Yet until the shadows fall
Over one and over all,
Sing a merry madrigal!_"

Rita, nibbling a chocolate, glanced up:

"That's a gay little creed," she observed.

"Of course. It's the _only_ creed."

Rita shrugged and Valerie went on blithely singing and sewing.

"How long has that young man of yours been away?" inquired Rita, looking
up again.

"Thirteen days."

"Oh. Are you sure it isn't fourteen?"

"Perfectly." Then the sarcasm struck her, and she looked around at Rita
and laughed:

"Of course I count the days," she said, conscious of the soft colour
mounting to her cheeks.

Rita sat up and, tucking a pillow under her shoulders, leaned back
against the foot-board of the bed, kicking the newspaper to the floor.
"Do you know," she said, "that you have come pretty close to falling in
love with Kelly Neville?"

Valerie's lips trembled on the edge of a smile as she bent lower over
her sewing, but she made no reply.

"I should say," continued Rita, "that it was about time for you to pick
up your skirts and run for it."

Still Valerie sewed on in silence.

"Valerie!"

"What?"

"For goodness' sake, say something!"

"What do you want me to say, dear?" asked the girl, laughing.

"That you are _not_ in danger of making a silly ninny of yourself over
Kelly Neville."

"Oh, I'll say that very cheerfully--"

"Valerie!"

The girl looked at her, calmly amused. Then she said:

"I might as well tell you. I am head over heels in love with him. You
knew it, anyway, Rita. You've known it--oh, I don't know how long--but
you've known it. Haven't you?"

Rita thought a moment: "Yes, I have known it.... What are you going to
do?"

"Do?"

"Yes; what do you intend to do about this matter?"

"Love him," said Valerie. "What else can I do?"

"You could try not to."

"I don't want to."

"You had better."

"Why?"

"Because," said Rita, deliberately, "if you really love him you'll
either become his wife or his mistress; and it's a pretty rotten choice
either way."

Va