responsible--and the game."

Godmother, whose caller was gone, asked him to stay to dinner.

"I wish I could!" he said wistfully, noting in the distance the cozy
dinner table set for two. "If you could only know where I must dine
instead!"

"You seem to dread it," said Mary Alice.

"I do," he answered.

She looked at Godmother. "I wish we could tell him the Secret," she
suggested shyly, "it might help."

Godmother looked very thoughtful, as if gravely considering. "Not
yet," she decided, shaking her head; "it's too soon."

"I think so too," he said. "I'm afraid you might lose interest in me
after you had told me. I'd rather wait."


The next day was Sunday. He had engagements for lunch and dinner, but
he asked if he might slip in again for tea; he was leaving town Monday.

So they had another beautiful hour, at what Godmother loved to speak of
as "candle-lightin' time," and while Mary Alice was in the kitchen
cutting bread to toast, Godmother and her guest made notes in tiny
note-books.