When she awoke the church bells were ringing
and she knew that her father and aunt
would have breakfasted. The feet did not
trouble her. It was an accidental sleep-over;
she had not planned it, and circumstances
would take care of themselves. In any case,
she had no fear of rebuke. No one was ever
cross with Ethel. It was a matter of pretty
general belief that whatever Ethel did was
just right. So she dressed herself becomingly
in a cloth suit, and, with her plumed hat on
her head, went down to see what the day had
to offer her.

"The first thing is coffee, and then, all being
agreeable, Dora. I shall not look further
ahead," she thought.

As she entered the room she called "Good
morning!" and her voice was like the voice
of the birds when they call "Spring!"; and
her face was radiant with smiles, and the touch
of her lips and the clasp of her hand warm
with love and life; and her father and aunt
forgot that she was late, and that her breakfast
was yet to order.

She took up the reproach herself. "I am
so sorry, Aunt Ruth. I only want a cup of