home's the best place for young folks."

Just before Pauline and Patience went home that evening, Mrs. Boyd
beckoned Pauline mysteriously into the best parlor. "I always meant
her to have them some day--she being my god-child--and maybe they'll do
her as much good now, as any time, she'll want to fix up a bit now and
then, most likely. Shirley had on a string of them last night, but not
to compare with these." Mrs. Boyd was kneeling before a trunk in the
parlor closet, and presently she put a little square shell box into
Pauline's bands. "Box and all, just like they came to me--you know,
they were my grandmother's--but Hilary's a real careful sort of girl."

"But, Mrs. Boyd--I'm not sure that mother would--" Pauline knew quite
well what was in the box.

"That's all right! You just slip them in Hilary's top drawer, where
she'll come across them without expecting it. Deary me, I never wear
them, and as I say, I've always meant to give them to her some day."

"She'll be perfectly delighted--and they'll look so pretty. Hilary's
got a mighty pretty neck, I think." Pauline went out to the gig, the
little box hidden carefully in her blouse, feeling that Patience was
right and that these were very fairy-story sort of days.

"You'll be over again soon, won't you?" Hilary urged.

"We're going to be tre-men-dous-ly busy," Patience began, but her
sister cut her short.

"As soon as I can, Hilary. Mind you go on getting better."

By Monday noon, the spare room had lost its look of prim order. In the
afternoon, Pauline and her mother went down to the store to buy the
matting. There was not much choice to be had, and the only green and
white there was, was considerably beyond the limit they had allowed
themselves.

"Never mind," Pauline said cheerfully, "plain white will look ever so
cool and pretty--perhaps, the green would fade. I'm going to believe
so."

Over a low wicker sewing-chair, she did linger longingly; it would look
so nice beside one of the west windows. She meant to place a low table
for books and work between those side windows. In the end, prudence
won the day, and surely, the new paper and matting were enough to be
grateful for in themselves.

By the next afternoon the paper was on and the matting down. Pauline
was up garret rummaging, when she heard someone calling her from the
foot of the stairs. "I'm here, Josie," she called back, and her friend
came running up.

"What are you doing