“I never slept a wink, but packed my trunks and slipped out for an expressman as soon as it was light, and moved to a woman’s temperance hotel that I had noticed not many blocks away. “James White and his sister followed me hot-foot after breakfast, and words passed on both sides, Judith doing more talking than her brother, who it then seemed to me was somewhat lacking and wouldn’t have fought back without being egged on. “I said that I would sue for my money, and she said that he would sue me for breach of promise, which he had in writing and signed plainly! I stayed at that hotel until yesterday, wrestling with my pride, and then I grew so homesick, the money I’d taken dwindled, and you know, Brooke, you said that you’d be glad to see me if I ever came back, and so here I am. I’ll work my board out, if you’ll let me, until I can look about and perhaps rent a little place and go to raise chickens—if only you’ll forget all that I’ve told and not repeat it except to Dr. Russell. Just say I’ve changed my mind, for if Enoch Fenton got hold of this there’d be no rest for me short of Middletown Asylum,” and Keith, relaxing at last, began to sob just as she had the day that she had answered James White’s first letter, using Tatters’ head (he had stolen in again) for a pillow. Both Brooke and Mrs. Lawton, remembering her kindly welcome home in their trouble, said all in their power to reassure her, and the younger woman gave her a rapid sketch of her new business plans, saying that if her hopes were realized fair pay would also be a part of the coöperative living. Something else she was about to add, for with all her sentiment Brooke was far-sighted, but her inborn delicacy stopped her, for the idea seemed harsh and brutal when put in words. But the third listener read his sister’s thoughts and did not hesitate. Striding into the room, he stood before his astounded kinswoman, towering above her, and said, with an apparently genial smile and hands in pockets: “I’ll make a bargain with you, Cousin Keith, fair and square over the right. I’ll forget all about your trip to Boston, and help you do the same, _unless_ you forget that sister is mistress here, that I’m her backer, and mother the dowager duchess! In which case I shall _remember_, and with _trimmings_!” And strange to say, the boy’s unasked championship was possibly the only thing that could have clarified the situation and made the coöperative household a possibility without embarrassment or bitter feeling. CHAPTER XV THE MASQUE OF SPRING