"Go on!" sighed Estelle. "Go on! I love you for making me feel better!" Her eyes moistened again in an almost luxurious melancholy. "One of the reasons for mother and me wishing for this consummation was the broadening of life it would afford Gerald. Gerald doesn't think about money. Aurora's money, all the same, will do a lot for him in making possible his getting away from here, where the truth is he stagnates. Then, too, she will cure him of his morbidness. He sees red if one so much as breathes the suggestion that his art is morbid. But of course it is." "Aurora said they might go to live in Paris, because she thought it would be good for his art." "Now that's what I want to hear about. Go on and tell me what Aurora said and what happened between midnight and their extraordinary elopement, as you call it. But, first of all, why, in the name of common sense, did they elope? From what did they elope?" "From me, I guess. I don't see what else. Oh, yes, I do. From the talk there would be. But principally, I suspect, he hurried her into it to make sure of her, for she, too, had her moments of doubting the wisdom of what she was doing. That much I know. They had only been engaged two weeks, and all that time I didn't even know they were engaged. I hadn't been nice about Gerald, I feel bound to confess, so she thought best not to tell me. She didn't want to hear how I would take it, we've been so used to speaking our minds to each other. He came oftener than ever and stayed longer, till it got so I made a point of getting up and making an excuse to leave the room. It was my way of being spiteful. But Nell didn't take it up with me in private, as I expected she would. They were tickled to death to have me leave the room, I can see now. She went around the house singing an Easter carol and fixing flowers in the vases, with a look of cheerfulness apart from me that made her seem like a stranger. I was pretty sore, I can tell you, but I wouldn't speak of it. I don't know how I thought it would end. Funny, I can't remember how everything looked so short a time ago as yesterday, but I know I was eaten up with mean thoughts. I went to bed last night thinking to myself, 'Well, Nell Goodwin, if you think I'm going to stand much more of this, you're mistaken. There'll be some plain talk before long.' And I fell asleep. First thing I knew I was awake, looking to see who'd come into my room. And there was Nell in her night-dress, holding her hand round the candle so it wouldn't shine in my eyes. I simply can't tell you what it was like,--the candle lighting nothing but her made her seem like a vision in the middle of a glory. Nobody can know how fond I am of Nell, what friends we've been since little bits of girls. All I could think of was that she'd come to make up with me, she couldn't wait another minute. It would have been just like her. And while I waited for her to speak first, I thought with my heart just melting what a lovely