CHAPTER VIII

Elizabeth's uncle need not have concerned himself so seriously
about the affairs of Elizabeth's heart. The very next day the
rift between the lovers began:

"What on earth have you done to your hand?" asked Blair.

"I cut it. I was angry at Uncle, and broke his picture, and--"

Blair shouted with laughter. "Oh, Elizabeth, what a goose you
are! That's just the way you used to bite your arm when you were
mad. You always did cut off your nose to spite your face! Where
is your locket?"

"None of your business!" said Elizabeth savagely. It was easy to
be savage with Blair, because David's lack of interest in her
affairs had taken the zest out of "being engaged" in the most
surprising way. But she had no intention of not being engaged!
Romance was too flattering to self-love to be relinquished;
nevertheless, after the first week or two she lapsed easily, in
moments of forgetfulness, into the old matter-of-fact squabbling
and the healthy unreasonableness natural to lifelong
acquaintance. The only difference was that now, when she and
Blair squabbled, they made up again in new ways; Blair, with
gusts of what Elizabeth, annoyed and a little disgusted, called
"silliness"; Elizabeth, with strange, half-scared, wholly joyous