don't hardly ever do that. I just drift a little sometimes."

"How do you mean you drift, papa?"

He looked at her vaguely. "Oh, I don't know. Kind of pictures. They get
a little mixed up--old times with times still ahead, like planning what
to do, you know. That's as near a nap as I get--when the pictures mix up
some. I suppose it's sort of drowsing."

She took one of his hands and stroked it. "What do you mean when you say
you have pictures like 'planning what to do'?" she asked.

"I mean planning what to do when I get out and able to go to work
again."

"But that doesn't need any planning," Alice said, quickly. "You're going
back to your old place at Lamb's, of course."

Adams closed his eyes again, sighing heavily, but made no other
response.

"Why, of COURSE you are!" she cried. "What are you talking about?"

His head turned slowly toward her, revealing the eyes, open in a haggard
stare. "I heard you the other night when you came from the party," he
said. "I know what was the matter."

"Indeed, you don't," she assured him. "You don't know anything about it,
because there wasn't anything the matter at all."

"Don't you suppose I heard you crying? What'd you cry for if there
wasn't anything the matter?"

"Just nerves, papa. It wasn't anything else in the world."

"Never mind," he said. "Your mother told me."

"She promised me not to!"

At that Adams laughed mournfully. "It wouldn't be very likely I'd hear
you so upset and not ask about it, even if she didn't come and tell me
on her own hook. You needn't try to fool me; I tell you I know what was
the matter."

"The only matter was I had a silly fit," Alice protested. "It did me
good, too."

"How's that?"

"Because I've decided to do something about it, papa."

"That isn't the way your mother looks at it," Adams said, ruefully. "She
thinks it's our place to do something about it. Well, I don't know--I
don't know; everything seems so changed these days. You've always been
a good daughter, Alice, and you ought to have as much as any of these
girls you go with; she's convinced me she's right about THAT. The
trouble is----" He faltered, apologetically, then went on, "I mean the
question is--how to get it for you."

"No!" she cried. "I had no business to make such a fuss just because a
lot of idiots didn't break their necks to get dances with me and because
I got mortified about Walter--Walter WAS pretty terrible----"

"Oh, me, my!" Adams lamented.