"Well, but it wouldn't be pretending. You ought to let people
see you're still holding your head up because you ARE. You
wouldn't want that Mildred Palmer to think you're cast down
about--well, you know you wouldn't want HER not to think you're
holding your head up, would you?"

"She wouldn't know whether I am or not, mama." Alice bit her
lip, then smiled faintly as she said:

"Anyhow, I'm not thinking about my head in that way--not this
morning, I'm not."

Mrs. Adams dropped the subject casually. "Are you going
down-town?" she inquired.

"Yes."

"What for?"

"Just something I want to see about. I'll tell you when I come
back. Anything you want me to do?"

"No; I guess not to-day. I thought you might look for a rug, but
I'd rather go with you to select it. We'll have to get a new rug
for your father's room, I expect."

"I'm glad you think so, mama. I don't suppose he's ever even
noticed it, but that old rug of his--well, really!"