are you up to now, Miss Stork?"

Mary's head came up out of the wet grass with a jerk. Then her face
burned an embarrassed crimson, for striding along the path toward her
was Bob Moore, cutting across lots from Oaklea. He was bareheaded, and
swinging along as if it were a pleasure merely to be alive on such a
morning.

She sprang to her feet, so mortified at being caught in this secret
quest for beauty that her embarrassment left her speechless. Then,
remembering the way she was dressed, she sank down on the grass again,
and pulled her kimono as far as possible over the little bare feet in
the red slippers.

There was no need for her to answer his question. The rhyme she had been
chanting was sufficient explanation.

"I thought you said," he began, teasingly, "that you were to have _your_
innings when you were a grandmother; that you didn't care for beauty now
if you could have a face like a benediction then."

"Oh, I didn't say that I didn't care!" cried Mary, crouching closer
against the monument, and putting her arm across her face to hide it.
"It's because I care so much that I'm always doing silly things and
getting caught. I just wish the earth could open and swallow me!" she
wailed.

Her head was bowed now till it was resting on her knees. Rob looked down
on the little bunch of misery in the gay kimono, thinking he had never
seen such a picture of woe. He could not help smiling, but he felt mean
at having been the cause of her distress, and tried to think of
something comforting to say.

"Sakes alive, child! That's nothing to feel bad about. Bathing your face
in May-day dew is an old English custom that the prettiest girls in the
Kingdom used to follow. I ought to apologize for intruding, but I didn't
suppose any one was up. I just came over to say that some business for
grandfather will take me to town on the earliest train, so that I can't
be on hand when the best man arrives. I didn't want to wake up the
entire household by telephoning, so I thought I'd step over and leave a
message with Alec or some of them. If you'll tell Lloyd, I'll be much
obliged."

"All right, I'll tell her," answered Mary, in muffled tones, without
raising her head from her knees. She was battling back the tears, and
felt that she could never face the world again. She waited till she was
sure Rob was out of sight, and then, springing up, ran for the shelter
of her room. As she stole up the stairs, her eyes were so blinded with