shaking her as the little procession reached the terrace. "But--oh,"
she could keep it no longer, "oh--you did look funny, darling--
sitting under that tree, with Lizzie on the other side of it making
banshee noises and--"

Miss Van Gorder laughed too, a little shamefacedly.

"I must have," she said. "But--oh, you needn't shake your head,
Lizzie Allen--I am going to practice with it. There's no reason
I shouldn't and you never can tell when things like that might be
useful," she ended rather vaguely. She did not wish to alarm Dale
with her suspicions yet.

"There, Dale--yes, put it in the drawer of the table--that will
reassure Lizzie. Lizzie, you might make us some lemonade, I think
--Miss Dale must be thirsty after her long, hot ride."

"Yes, Miss Cornelia," said Lizzie, recovering her normal calm as
the revolver was shut away in the drawer of the large table in the
living-room. But she could not resist one parting shot. "And thank
God it's lemonade I'll be making--and not bandages for bullet
wounds!" she muttered darkly as she went toward the service quarters.

Miss Van Gorder glared after her departing back. "Lizzie is really
impossible sometimes!" she said with stately ire. Then her voice
softened. "Though of course I couldn't do without her," she added.

Dale stretched out on the settee opposite her aunt's chair. "I know
you couldn't, darling. Thanks for thinking of the lemonade." She
passed her hand over her forehead in a gesture of fatigue. "I AM