view of the furs in the moonlight; was resolving to urge him to go
to church next Sunday night even if SHE couldn't; was telling
herself she mustn't ENTIRELY relinquish her hold on him-for his
sake. . .

So full were her thoughts that she forgot to be much afraid. And the
Lord must have been with her, for she reached the kitchen door in
safety and regained her own room without detection. In bed once
again, a great, soft, holy peace seemed to enfold her. Everything
was right with everybody--with father and mother and God and Arthur-
-everybody.

At the very time she was going off into smiling slumber--one hand
nestling in the white fox furs on her pillow--it happened that her
father was making half-apologetic explanations to her mother:
everything had seemed to come down on the child in a lump--commands
against walking and against boys and against going out nights and
everything. He couldn't help feeling for the youngster. So he
thought he'd bring her the white fox furs she seemed to have set her
heart on.

And Mrs. Merriam, who could understand a father's indulgent,
sympathetic heart even though--as Missy believed--she wasn't capable
of "understanding" a daughter's, didn't have it in her, then, to
spoil his pleasure by expounding that wanting furs and wanting beaux
were really one and the same evil.

CHAPTER VII

BUSINESS OF BLUSHING