Fate's spinning wheel. Missy was terribly cast down by the
afternoon's history; but not so cast down that she had lost sight of
the obligation to invite to her dinner a boy who had rescued her--
anyhow, he had tried to rescue her, and that was the same thing. So
a carte must be issued to "Mr. Ed Brown." After all, what's in a
name?--hadn't Shakespeare himself said that?

At supper, Missy didn't enjoy her meal. Had father or mother heard?
Once she got a shock: she glanced up suddenly and caught father's
eyes on her with a curious expression. For a second she was sure he
knew; but he said nothing, only looked down again and went on eating
his chop.

That evening mother suggested that Missy go to bed early. "You
didn't eat your supper, and you look tired out," she explained.

Missy did feel tired--terribly tired; but she wouldn't have admitted
it, for fear of being asked the reason. Did mother, perhaps, know?
Missy had a teasing sense that, under the placid, commonplace
conversation, there was something unspoken. A curious and
uncomfortable feeling. But, then, as one ascertains increasingly
with every year one lives, Life is filled with curious and often
uncomfortable feelings. Which, however, one would hardly change if
one could, because all these things make Life so much more complex,
therefore more interesting. The case of Ben was in point: if he had
not "cut up," it might have been weeks before she got acquainted
with the Dark Stranger!

Still pondering these "deep" things, Missy took advantage of her
mother's suggestion and went up to undress. She was glad of the