h the tide."

"Don't tell me that you'd rather be up there than here, Caroline."

"I'd like it for some things," Mrs. Paine admitted frankly; "you should
see the clothes that those Waterman women are wearing."

"What do you care what they wear. You don't want to be like them, do
you?"

"I may not care to be like them, but I want to look like them. I got
the pattern of this sweater I am knitting from one of my boarders. Do
you want it, Claudia?"

Mrs. Beaufort winced at the word "boarders." She hated to think that
Caroline must---- "I never wear sweaters, Caroline. They are not my
style. But I am knitting one for Becky."

"Is it blue?" Randy asked. "Becky ought always to wear blue, except
when she wears pale yellow. That was a heavenly thing you had on at
dinner the night we arrived, wasn't it, Major?"

"Everything was heavenly. I felt like one who expecting a barren plain
sees--Paradise."

It was not flattery and they knew it. They were hospitable souls, and
in a week he had become, as it were, one of them.

Randy, returning to the subject in hand, asked, "Will you wear the blue
if I come up to-night, Becky?"

"I will not." Becky was making herself a chaplet of yellow leaves, and
her bronze hair caught the light. "I will not. I shall probably put
on my old white if I dress for dinner."

"Of course you'll dress," said Mrs. Beaufort; "there are certain things
which we must always demand of ourselves----"

Caroline Paine agreed. "That's what I tell Randy when he says he
doesn't want to finish his law course. His father was a lawyer and his
grandfather. He owes it to them to live up to their standards."

Randy was again flat on his back with his hands under his head. "If I
stay at the University, it means no money for either of us except what
you earn, Mother."

The war had taken its toll of Caroline Paine. Things had not been easy
since her son had left her. They would not be easy now. "I know," she
said, "but you wouldn't want your father to be ashamed of you."

Randy sat up. "It isn't that--but I ought to make some money----"

The word was a challenge to the Judge. "Don't run with the mob, my
boy. The world is money-mad."

"I'm not money-mad," said Randy; "I know what I should like to do if my
life was my own. But it isn't. And I'm not going to have Mother twist
and turn as she has twisted and turned for the last fifteen years in
order to get me educated up to the family stan