on Helen. Of course Lorna has gone to work?"

"Oh yes, she leaves at half after eight."

"Mother, I was awake last night when she got home," went on Lane,
seriously. "It was one o'clock. She came in a car. I heard girls
tittering. And some boy came up on the porch with Lorna and kissed
her. Well, that might not mean much--but something about their talk,
the way it was done--makes me pretty sick. Did you know this sort of
thing was going on?"

"Yes. And I've talked with mothers who have girls Lorna's age. They've
all run wild the last year or so. Dances and rides! Last summer I was
worried half to death. But we mothers don't think the girls are really
_bad_. They're just crazy for fun, excitement, boys. Times and
pleasures have changed. The girls say the mothers don't understand.
Maybe we don't. I try to be patient. I trust Lorna. I can't see
through it all."

"Don't worry, mother," said Lane, patting her hand. "I'll see through
it for you. And if Lorna is--well, running too much--wild as you
said--I'll stop her."

His mother shook her head.

"One thing we mothers all agree on. These girls, of this generation,
say fourteen to sixteen, _can't_ be stopped."

"Then that is a serious matter. It must be a peculiarity of the day.
Maybe the war left this condition."