"Not lately!"

Cherry stumbled into the airy, dark, sweet little bedroom, and
somehow undressed and crept between the cool sheets of the bed
that stood near Alix's on the wide sleeping porch. Her last
thought was for the heavenly redwoods so close to her; she slept,
indeed, for almost twelve unbroken hours.

She came wandering out to the porch at eleven o'clock, the old,
smiling, apologetic Cherry, with her skin dewy from a bath, and
her corn-coloured hair freshly brushed, and her linen gown as pink
as the Perkins rose that was blooming over her head.

"Oh, Sis, I do feel so deliciously lazy and happy and rested and--
and everything!" said Cherry, as she settled herself at the porch
table where service for one was spread. "Oh, Alix--apricots! You
remember everything," she added, with a look all affectionate
appreciation. Alix, panting from exertions in the garden, dropped,
trowel in hand, upon the upper step, to watch her smilingly.

"Cherry, you're prettier than ever!" Alix said, eyeing the white
hands so busy with blue china, and the bright head dappled with
shade and sunshine coming through the green rose vine.

"Am I?" Cherry said, pleased. "I thought myself that I looked nice
this morning," she added, innocently. "But it is really because
the air of this place agrees with me, it makes my skin feel right
and my eyes feel right; it makes me feel normal and smoothed out
somehow!" And Cherry looked down at the green and glitter of the