with clear color, purple and rose and gold. The air was oppressive,
with a gathering haze back of the hills.

"I'm tired of it. Some day I'm going to flap my wings and fly away where
you won't be able to find me, Georgie. I'd rather be a wild gull to the
wind-swept sky, than a tame pigeon--to eat from your hand----" She said
it lightly; this was not a moment for plaintiveness.

There was a dancing light in his eyes. "You're a golden pheasant--and
you'll never fly so far that I shan't find you."

Oscar arriving at this moment saved a retort. "Flora's not well. We
can't motor up, Madge."

"I am sorry but I can take a train."

"There's one at three. I don't see why you are going," irritably; "Flora
won't stay here long after you leave."

"I am not as necessary as you think, Oscar. There are plenty of others,
and I must go----"

"Oh, very well. Andrews will drive you down."

"I'll drive her myself," said Dalton.

II

Aunt Claudia was going to Washington also on the three o'clock train.
She had had a wireless from Truxton who had sailed from Brest and would
arrive at New York within the week.

"Of course you'll go and meet him, Aunt Claudia," Becky had said; "I'll
help you to get your things ready."

Aunt Claudia, quite white and inwardly shaken by the thought of the
happiness which was on its way to her, murmured her thanks.

Becky, divining something of the tumult which was beneath that outward
show of serenity, patted the cushions of the couch in Mrs. Beaufort's
bedroom. "Lie down here, you darling dear. It was such a surprise,
wasn't it?"

"Well, my knees are weak," Mrs. Beaufort admitted.

The nuns had taught Becky nice ways and useful arts, so she folded and
packed under Aunt Claudia's eye and was much applauded.

"Most girls in these days," said Mrs. Beaufort, "throw things in. Last
summer I stayed at a house where the girls sat on their trunks to shut
them, and sent parcel-post packages after them of the things they had
left out."

"Sister Loretto says that I am not naturally tidy, so she keeps me at
it. I used to weep my eyes out when she'd send me back to my room----
But crying doesn't do any good with Sister Loretto."

"Crying is never any good," said Aunt Claudia. She was of Spartan mold.
"Crying only weakens. When things are so bad that you must cry, then do
it where the world can't see."

Becky found herself thrilled by the thought of Aunt Claudia crying in
secret. She was a martial