ll. Her soul rebelled against the fate
that made necessary any choice when her father was so gentle, so wise,
so kind, and her mother so transcendently charming and lovable.

"You are so good to me; you have always been so good!" she sobbed. "And
I'm sorry I was ugly yesterday, about Nan. You know I love Nan. No one
was ever kinder to me than Nan--hardly you, even! And I don't want you
to give her up; you need each other; you do understand each other! Oh,
everything is so queer and wrong!"

"No, Phil; things are not as queer and wrong as they look. Don't get
that idea into your head. Life isn't queer or wrong; life simply isn't
as easy as it looks, and that's very different."

He smiled, turning her face so that she could see that he smiled not
unhappily.

"But I don't want you to go away; I'd die if I thought I shouldn't see
you any more--and all the good times we've had, right here in this old
house--and everything--"

"But this isn't the end of things. When I'm back, as I shall be for a
day or two frequently, I'll always let you know; or you can run over to
the city and do a theater with me whenever you like. So let's be
cheerful about everything."

The passing of her trunk from her father's house to her uncle's was not
neglected by the gossips. Her three aunts noted it, and excoriated
Kirkwood and Amzi. They took care that every one should know how they
felt about the transfer of poor, dear Phil (on whom they had lavished
their love and care for years, to the end that she might grow up
respectable, etc., etc.) to a roof that sheltered her Jezebel of a
mother.

"That was nice of him," said Lois, when Phil explained her coming.
"How's your father getting on these days?"

"Oh, quite well!" Phil replied.

She was establishing herself in a room adjoining her mother's. Lois, in
a flowered silk kimona, commented upon Phil's clothes as they were
hauled from the trunk. Her opinions in the main were touched with her
light, glancing irony.

"I'll wager Jo bought that walnut-stain effect," she remarked, pointing
an accusing finger at a dark waist. "That has Josephine stamped on it.
Poor old soul!"

Her manner of speaking of her sister set Phil to giggling. Mrs. Waterman
had bought that particular article over Phil's solemn protest, and she
now sat on the bed and watched her mother carry the odious thing
gingerly by the collar to the door and fling it in the direction of the
back stairs.

Lois brought from her o