t that idea of me, Susan?" Mary
asked.

"By studyin' you," said Susan. "I ain't known you all your life for
nothin'.

"Now Miss Constance," she went on, as she opened the oven and peeped
in, "Miss Constance is just the other way. 'Most any nice man was
bound to git her. An' it was lucky that Mr. Gordon was the first."

"And what about me?" was Grace's demand.

"Go 'way," said Susan, "you knows yo'se'f, Miss Grace. You bats your
eyes at everybody, and gives your heart to nobody."

"And so Mary and I are to be old maids--oh, Susan."

"They don't call them old maids any more," Susan said, "and they ain't
old maids, not in the way they once was. An old maid is a woman who
ain't got any intrus' in life but the man she can't have, and you all
is the kin' that ain't got no intrus' in the men that want you."

They left her, laughing, and when they reached the dining-room they sat
down on the window-seat; where Mary had gazed out upon the dead garden
and the bronze boy.

"And now," said Grace, "tell me about Roger Poole."

"There isn't much to tell. He's given up his position in the Treasury,
and he's gone down to his cousin's home for a while. He's going to try
to write for the magazines; he thinks that stories of that section will
take."

"He's in love with you, Mary. But you're not in love with him--and you
mustn't be."

"Of course not. I'm not going to marry, Grace."

Grace gave her a little squeeze. "You don't know what you are going to
do, darling; no woman does. But I don't want you to fall in love with
anybody yet. Flit through life with me for a time. I'll take you to
Paris next summer, and show you my world."

"I couldn't, unless I could pay my own way."

"Oh, Mary, what makes you fight against anybody doing anything for you?"

"Porter says it is my contrariness---but I just can't hold out my hands
and let things drop into them."

"I know--and that's why you won't marry Porter Bigelow."

Mary flashed at her a surprised and grateful glance. "Grace," she
said, solemnly, "you're the first person who has seemed to understand."

"And I understand," said Grace, "because to me life is a Great
Adventure. Everything that happens is a hazard on the highway--as yet
I haven't found a man who will travel the road with me; they all want
to open a gate and shut me in and say, 'Stay here.'"

Mary's eyes were shining. "I feel that, too."

Grace kissed her. "You'd laugh, Mary, if I told the drea