thing
known to lengthen life. You'd ought to take better care of yourself,
Persis. Half an hour a day--"

His sister interrupted him with a burst of laughter in which his
preternaturally acute senses detected the wildness of mania.

"Joel, I know what ails you. You think I'm taking leave of my senses.
It does sound that way, I own, for a Dale to be talking about being
rich. I don't mean the Vanderbilt kind of riches, you know, but a nice
little income so I can keep a servant girl and never do any more sewing
and maybe buy an automobile."

"Persis Dale," exclaimed Joel, "you're as crazy as a June bug."

"Look for yourself, then." Persis turned to the secretary where she
had placed the letter she had received that morning. She felt more
like herself than at any time since she had perused the contents of
that final astonishing communication. In combatting Joel's
incredulity, she was able to set at rest certain disquieting doubts of
her own as to her sanity.

Joel's jaw dropped as he read. "Mrs. Persis Ann Crawford. Why, that
must mean Aunt Persis."

"Sure. The one I was named for. And I guess it's a good twenty-five
years since we've had a line from her." She laughed a little
hysterically, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. "I don't s'pose
I'm crying because she's dead, seeing I took it for granted that she'd
passed away years ago. And yet all the time to leave me her money.
Ain't life the funniest mix-up. Yesterday I couldn't have afforded so
much as a sick-headache. And now if I want a run of typhoid fever or
my appendix cut out, it's nobody's business."

Joel laid down the letter with a gulp. The impression uppermost in his
mind was the singular blindness of fortune in selecting the recipients
of its bounty.

"It's a good deal of a responsibility for a woman," he said ruefully.
"Seeing I'm the oldest, it's rather odd Aunt Persis Ann didn't realize
that I was the proper one to inherit. But I guess she thought it was
all in the family, and you'd be guided by my advice."

Persis' answer was irrelevant. "Joel, seems to me that so far my
life's been for all the world like a checked gingham, if you know what
I mean."

But Joel did not know. "Checked gingham! I never heard such crazy
talk."

"Made up of the same little things, all just alike," Persis explained
patiently. "And nothing especially bright or cheerful about any of
'em. I've a feeling as if I'd like a splash of color now,