“Oh, that’s all right; I don’t mind. I did something else,” muttered Dirk giving his father a limp little hand. After dinner he came upon Beth alone in the library. “Say, you’re all right,” he began in some embarrassment. “I ain’t going to forget what you did.” “Well, you didn’t trip up Alys,” said Beth. “No, but I pinched you like fury in church, and I was pinching you when she slipped up. I guess most girls would have let me take what was coming to me, and be glad I got it. I won’t bother you any more; I wish you were my sister and Alys was my cousin. I ain’t going to forget it, Beth Bristead, and if you want anything any time, say so,” said Dirk. “I want something now,” said Beth with a little laugh. “I want you to show you’re nice, instead of trying to make everybody think you’re horrid.” “Oh, come off!” said Dirk much embarrassed, but inwardly pleased. “I guess I ain’t going to pretend.” “All right, then it’s a bargain,” Beth triumphed. “And I’m glad it all happened, because that’s exactly what you do every minute--pretend you’re a rude, disagreeable boy, and I know better! I’m awfully glad you’ll stop pretending, Dirk!” “Oh, say!” exclaimed Dirk. But he grinned, for there was no denying that Beth had the best of him. Natalie and Alys came into the room. “Now we’re going to show you the house, Beth,” Natalie announced. “You’ve seen this library and the dining-room, and that’s all you have seen, down-stairs. On this side of the hall is the drawing-room.” Natalie threw open the door as she spoke, and Beth cried out delightedly. The floor, inlaid in beautiful woods, was partly covered with rugs of the finest colors and textures--before the fireplace lay a great tiger skin. The walls were hung with silken tapestries of green and silver, the furniture “did not match,” Beth noticed in surprise; there was gold, dull enough to accord with the silver; there was white, and there were rare woods, and there were cushions and upholstering of the same green as the walls and of darker shades of the same tone. Beth did not know why it was such a beautiful room. She did know that she had never seen one so splendid. “This is the conservatory,” said Alys, leading the way. And there off the drawing-room, Beth found herself “knee deep in June,” in a conservatory filled with bloom and with the green of the tropics, its damp, rose-scented air seeming, most of all that Beth had seen in this wonder house, the work of fairies on this chill November day. “This is father’s billiard room,” said Dirk who had followed the girls. “Beth won’t care for that,” said Alys. “This is the music room. We’ve come around a square; that door across there leads back into the library.” The music room was vaulted, finished in dark woods, paneled from floor to ceiling. One end of it was occupied by a great organ, built into the wall; a piano, harp and several small instruments rested against the walls at intervals.