unselfishly at home; days unstained by regrets and tears and idle
repinings for what could not be helped.

Mary laughed over the story of one hard-earned pearl, the day spent in
making pies and cleaning house for the disagreeable old Mrs. Perkins,
who didn't want to be reformed, and who wouldn't stay clean.

"I haven't the faintest idea why I told you all this," said Lloyd at
last, once more lifting the string to watch the light shimmer along its
lustrous length. "But now you see why I prize this little rosary so
highly. It was what lifted me out of my dungeon of disappointment."

Afterward Mary thought of a dozen things she wished she had said to
Lloyd while they were there together in the privacy of the trunk-room.
She wished she had let her know in some way how much she admired her,
and longed to be like her, and how she was going to try all the rest of
her life to be a real maid of honor, worthy in every way of her love and
confidence. But some shy, unusual feeling of constraint crowded the
unspoken words back into her throbbing little throat, and the
opportunity passed.

Clasping the pearls around her neck, Lloyd picked up the sandalwood box
again and shook it. "Heah's a lot of loose beads of all kinds, with as
many colahs as a kaleidoscope. You do bead-work, don't you, Mary? You
may have these if you can use them."

In response to her eager acceptance, Lloyd looked around for something
to pour the beads into. "There's an empty cologne bottle on that shelf
above yoah head. If you will reach it down, I'll poah them into that."

Beads of various sizes and colors, from garnet to amber, poured in a
rainbow stream from the box to the wide-necked bottle. Here and there
was the glint of cut steel and the gleam of crystal, and several times
Mary noticed a little Roman pearl like those on the rosary, and thought
with a thrill of the necklace she intended to begin making that very
day. Suddenly Lloyd gave an exclamation and reversed the gay-colored
stream, pouring it slowly back into the box from the bottle.

"I thought I saw that turquoise," she cried. "I remembah now, it was in
my hand when I took off my necklace, and I must have dropped them in
heah togethah."

She parted the beads with a cautious forefinger, pushing them aside one
at a time. Presently a bit of blue rolled uppermost, and she looked up
triumphantly. "There it is!"

Mary flushed guiltily at sight of the turquoise, wondering what Lloyd
would think