struck her, oddly, that she was almost enjoying her week of
punishment--that she WAS enjoying it. Why was she enjoying it,
since, when mother first banned athletic pursuits, she had felt like
a martyr? It was queer. She pondered the mysterious complexity of
her nature.

There passed two more days of this inexplicable content. Then came
the thunder-storm. It was, perhaps, the thunder-storm that really
deserves the blame for Missy's climactic athletic catastrophe. No
lightning-bolt struck, yet that thunder-storm indubitably played its
part in Missy's athletic destiny. It was the causation of renewed
turmoil after time of peace.

Tess had telephoned that morning and asked Missy to accompany her to
the Library. But Missy had to practice. In her heart she didn't
really care to go, for, after her stint was finished, she was
contemplating some new improvisings. However, the morning didn't go
well. It was close and sultry and, though she tried to make her
fingers march and trot and gallop as the exercises dictated,
something in the oppressive air set her nerves to tingling. Besides
it grew so dark she couldn't see the notes distinctly. Finally she
abandoned her lesson; but even improvising failed of its wonted
charm. Her fingers kept striking the wrong keys. Then a sudden, ear-
splitting thunder-clap hurled her onto a shrieking discord.

She jumped up from the piano; she was horribly afraid of thunder-
storms--mother wouldn't mind if she stopped till the storm was over.
She longed to go and sit close to mother, to feel the protection of
her presence; but, despite the general softening of her mood, she
had maintained a certain stiffness toward the family. So she