ried about it while she was talking to me."

"What do you think I ought to do?" asked Lloyd, with a troubled face. "I
like Mistah Shelby evah so much, and I'd like to be nice to him for the
old doctah's sake if for no othah reason, for I'm devoted to _him_. And
I really would enjoy seeing him often, especially now when everybody
else is gone or going for the rest of the summah. Besides, he'd think it
mighty queah for me to write to him not to come next Thursday. But I'd
hate to really interfere with Bernice's happiness, if it has grown to be
such a serious affair with her that she can cry about it. I'd hate to
have her going through the rest of her life thinking that I had
deliberately wronged her, and if she's breaking her heart ovah it"--she
stopped abruptly.

"Oh, I don't see that you have any call to do the grand renouncing act!"
exclaimed Katie. "Why should you cut yourself off from a good time and a
good friend by snubbing him? It will put you in a very unpleasant light,
for you couldn't explain without making Bernice appear a perfect ninny.
And if you don't explain, what will he think of you? Let me tell you, it
is more than she would do for you if you were in her place. Somehow,
with us girls, life seems like a game of 'Hold fast all I give you.'
What falls into your hands is yours by right of the game, and you've no
call to hand it over to the next girl because she whimpers that she
wants to be 'it.' Don't you worry. Go on and have a good time."

With that parting advice Katie hurried away, and Lloyd was left to pace
up and down the avenue more undecided than before. It was late in the
afternoon of the next day when she finally found the answer to her
question. She had been wandering around the drawing-room, glancing into
a book here, rearranging a vase of flowers there, turning over the pile
of music on the piano, striking aimless chords on the harp-strings.

Presently she paused in front of the mantel to lift the lid from the
rose-jar and let its prisoned sweetness escape into the room. As she did
so she glanced up into the eyes of the portrait above her. With a
whimsical smile she thought of the times before when she had come to it
for counsel, and the question half-formed itself on her lips: "What
would _you_ do, you beautiful Grandmother Amanthis?"

Instantly there came into her mind the memory of a winter day when she
had stood there in the firelight before it, stirred to the depths by the
music this