en, and with such women
as would tolerate the clinging-vine idea in the present forthright days.
With a strand of softly curled hair in one hand and a fancy pin in the
other, Eileen turned a disapproving look upon her sister.

"What's the great idea?" demanded Linda shortly.

"Oh, it's perfectly splendid," answered Eileen. "John Gilman's best
friend is motoring around here looking for a location to build a home.
He is an author and young and good looking and not married, and he
thinks he would like to settle somewhere near Los Angeles. Of course
John would love to have him in Lilac Valley because he hopes to build a
home here some day for himself. His name is Peter Morrison and John says
that his articles and stories have horse sense, logic, and humor, and he
is making a lot of money."

"Then God help John Gilman, if he thinks now that he is in love with
you," said Linda dryly.

Eileen arched her eyebrows, thinned to a hair line, and her lips drew
together in disapproval.

"What I can't understand," she said, "is how you can be so unspeakably
vulgar, Linda."

Linda laughed sharply.

"And this Peter Morrison and John are our guests for dinner?"

"Yes," said Eileen. "I am going to show them this valley inside and out.
I'm so glad it's spring. We're at our very best. It would be perfectly
wonderful to have an author for a neighbor, and he must be going to
build a real house, because he has his architect with him; and John says
that while he is young, he has done several awfully good houses. He has
seen a couple of them in in San Francisco."

Linda shrugged her shoulders.

"Up the flue goes Marian's chance of drawing the plans for John Gilman's
house," she said. "I have heard him say a dozen times he would not build
a house unless Marian made the plans."

Eileen deftly placed the strand of hair and set the jewelled pin with
precision.

"Just possibly things have changed slightly," she suggested.

"Yes," said Linda, "I observe that they have. Marian has sold the home
she adored. She is leaving friends she loved and trusted, and who were
particularly bound to her by a common grief without realizing exactly
how it is happening. She certainly must know that you have taken her
lover, and I have not a doubt but that is the reason she has discovered
she can no longer work at home, that she must sell her property and
spend the money cooped up in a city, to study her profession further."

"Linda," said Eileen, her