back way. That is the way it always is with Tolly
and Edith, either they are inseparable or entirely separate. They can't
seem to be coexistent citizens, and they have been fighting this way
since they both had on rompers. I wondered what Tolly had been doing
now.

"Clyde Tolbot needn't have gone just because I came. I can endure him
when I have other people to help me," said Edith, as she kissed me and
sat down sadly. She is always sad when Tolly has been sinful.

"What has Tolly been doing now?" I asked her, as I put that fascinating
Belgian face down on the floor and ruthlessly sat upon him, for the step
was getting cold, though the sun was delicious and had drawn out a nice
old bumblebee from his winter quarters to scout about the budding
honeysuckle over our heads.

"I am so hurt that I wouldn't tell anybody about it but you, dear, but
last night as he walked home with me, after we had been dancing down at
Sue's to the new phonograph, he--he put his arm almost around me and I
think--I think he was going to kiss me if I hadn't prevented him--that
is, he did kiss my hair--I think." Edith is the pale-nun type, and I
wish she could have seen how lovely she was with the blush that even the
failure of Tolly to kiss her brought up under her deep-blue eyes. Edith
didn't get any farther north to school than Louisville, and her maiden
aunt, Miss Editha Shelby Morris Carruthers, brought her up perfectly
beautifully. I didn't know how to comfort her because I had been two
years at the Manor on the Hudson and then a year in Europe, and, though
nobody ever has directly kissed me, a girl's hand and hair don't seem to
count out in the world.

To take Edith's mind off Tolly's perfidy I told her about the play, and
she was as impressed as anybody could wish her to be, and promised to
stand by me and make people understand why I couldn't dance and picnic
like other people because of this great work I had to do for a dear
friend. I told her not to tell anybody but Sue, and she went home
completely comforted by her friendly interest in Peter and me. In fact,
she really adored the idea of helping me help Peter, and seemed to
forget her anger at Tolly with a beautiful spirit.

About that time Eph solemnly called me in to lunch. Eph is a nice,
jolly old negro until he gets a white linen jacket and apron on, and
then he turns into a black mummy. I think it is because I used to want
to talk to him at the table when I still sat in a hi