But Missy caught her breath. Uncle Charlie felt sorry for the ill-
fated lovers. Oh, if he only knew!

At dinner time (on Sundays they had midday dinner here), Aunt Isabel
came down to the table. She said her head was better, but she looked
pale; and her blue eyes were just like the Blessed Damozel's,
"deeper than the depth of waters stilled at even." Yet, pale and
quiet like this, she seemed even more beautiful than ever,
especially in that adorable lavender negligee--with slippers to
match. Missy regarded her with secret fascination.

After dinner, complaining of the heat, Aunt Isabel retired to her
room again. She suggested that Missy take a nap, also. Missy didn't
think she was sleepy, but, desiring to be alone with her bewildered
thoughts, she went upstairs and lay down. The better to think things
over, she closed her eyes; and when she opened them to her amazement
there was Aunt Isabel standing beside the bed--a radiant vision in
pink organdy this time--and saying:

"Wake up, sleepy-head! It's nearly six o'clock!"

Aunt Isabel, her vivacious self once more, with gentle fingers (Oh,
hard not to love Aunt Isabel!) helped Missy get dressed for supper.

It was still so hot that, at supper, everyone drank a lot of ice-tea
and ate a lot of ice-cream. Missy felt in a steam all over when they
rose from the table and went out to sit on the porch. It was very
serene, for all the sultriness, out on the porch; and Aunt Isabel
was so sweet toward Uncle Charlie that Missy felt her gathering