."

"Bessie!" cried Mary Enderby. "You don't mean it!"

"Not if I say it, Mary dear. What did I promise you about the
pericardiac symptoms? But I feel--I feel that if he asks me I must go.
Shouldn't you like to go and see a jay Class Day--be part of it? Think
of going once to the Pi Ute spread--or whatever it is! And dancing in
their tent! And being left out of the Gym, and Beck! Yes, I ought to go,
so that it can be brought home to me, and I can have a realizing sense
of what I am doing, and be stayed in my mad career."

"Perhaps," Mary Enderby suggested, colorlessly, "he will be devoted
to his own people." She had a cold fascination in the picture Bessie's
words had conjured up, and she was saying this less to Bessie than to
herself.

"And I should meet them--his mothers and sisters!" Bessie dramatized an
excess of anguish. "Oh, Mary, that is the very thorn I have been trying
not to press my heart against; and does your hand commend it to my
embrace? His folks! Yes, they would be folks; and what folks! I think
I am getting a realizing sense. Wait! Don't speak don't move, Molly!"
Bessie dropped her chin into her hand, and stared straight forward,
gripping Mary Enderby's hand.

Mary withdrew it. "I shall have to go, Bessie," she said. "How is your
aunt?"

"Must you? Then I shall always say that it was your fault that I
couldn't get a realizing sense--that you prevented me, just when I was
about to see myself as others see me--as you see me. She's very well!"
Bessie sighed in earnest, and her friend gave her hand a little pressure
of true sympathy. "But of course it's rather dull here, now."

"I hate to have you staying on. Couldn't you come down to us for a
week?"

"No. We both think it's best to be here when Alan gets back. We want him
to go down with us." Bessie had seldom spoken openly with Mary Enderby
about her brother; but that was rather from Mary's shrinking than her
own; she knew that everybody understood his case. She went so far now as
to say: "He's ever so much better than he has been. We have such hopes
of him, if he can keep well, when he gets back this time."

"Oh, I know he will," said Mary, fervently. "I'm sure of it. Couldn't we
do something for you, Bessie?"

"No, there isn't anything. But--thank you. I know you always think of
me, and that's worlds. When are you coming up again?"

"I don't know. Next week, some time."

"Come in and see me--and Alan, if he should be at home. He likes yo