weeks--'course you'd put it real cautious, then perhaps he--"

A light hurried step on the stair warned them to silence; the door
was pushed open and Fanny Dodge entered the kitchen. She was wearing
the freshly ironed white dress, garnished with crisp pink ribbons;
her cheeks were brilliant with color, her pretty head poised high.

"I changed my mind," said she, in a hard, sweet voice. "I decided I'd
go, after all. My--my head feels better."

Mother and son exchanged stealthy glances behind the girl's back as
she leaned toward the cracked mirror between the windows, apparently
intent upon capturing an airy tendril of hair which had escaped
confinement.

"That's real sensible, Fanny," approved Mrs. Dodge with perfunctory
cheerfulness. "I want you should go out all you can, whilest you're
young, an' have a good time."

Jim Dodge was silent; but the scowl between his eyes deepened.

Mrs. Dodge formed three words with her lips, as she shook her head at
him warningly.

Fanny burst into a sudden ringing laugh.

"Oh, I can see you in the glass, mother," she cried. "I don't care
what Jim says to me; he can say anything he likes."

[Illustration: "Oh, I can see you in the glass, mother," she cried.]