“Why, of course you do,” she responded heartily and naturally. “It always does me good to talk to you.” Then she added rather plaintively, “Oh, Jim, why can’t people be honest with themselves and with others?” “I’m damned if I know!” he declared savagely, not looking at her. “I’m sure I don’t either,” she said, regarding him affectionately. “Well, good-bye. I’m going home.” She rose and shook hands. “Good-bye, Lucy. You can depend on me.” Jim held her hand. “Thank you, Jim,” she answered, pressing his hand. And she was gone. * * * * * Mrs. Merwent was at the piano, practising, when Lucy reached home. “Well, did you see Mr. Sprague?” Nannie asked sarcastically, going into the hall when she heard the front door open. “Yes,” returned Lucy calmly. “You ought to be careful, Lucy,” reminded Nannie. “Of course _I_ wouldn’t say anything to John, but others might.” “You can say anything you like to him,” retorted Lucy in a disgusted tone. “I’m going to tell him myself.” That night John returned late. Nannie, Lucy, and Dimmie had finished their evening meal, and Lucy had tucked Dimmie safely into bed, when the front door clicked and a cheerful voice was heard in the hall. “Now, Lucy, your croaking was all for nothing,” were John’s first words. “Look there!” he commanded, rushing into the living room and throwing a pile of bills on the table, his manner almost hilarious. “How nice!” murmured Nannie. “Where did that come from?” Lucy inquired quickly. “Why, Jim put over a deal today while I was away, and this is my share of the lucre,” and John put his hands in his pockets and began to whistle. “What kind of a deal was it?” persisted Lucy. “Oh, some private scheme of his. Sold building materials or something on commission,” answered John. Lucy looked nonplussed. “Didn’t Mr. Sprague say anything to you about it?” Nannie inquired of Lucy in an innocent voice. “Why, was Jim out here today?” asked John in surprise. “No. I was at the office,” Lucy explained without hesitation. “Why, he didn’t tell me,” said John, as though mystified. Then, apologetically, “I was only there a minute, Lucy. Went to Benton Harbor on business. I forgot to say anything about going last night.” “Your dinner’s getting cold,” was all Lucy’s reply. As John seated himself at the table a faint cry was heard from the upper floor and Lucy, exclaiming, “That’s Dimmie!” left the room quickly. “John, I wish you would ask Mr. Sprague out again,” requested Nannie, when she thought her daughter was safely upstairs. John looked teasingly at her. “What’s the matter? Are you getting lonesome, or just yearning for more of Jim’s society?” “Will you ask him out?” she repeated. “Yes. Of course I will. Let’s see. Today is Tuesday. I’ll bring him out Thursday night. He’s going to work late tomorrow, I heard him say.” “Now, don’t forget,” warned Nannie. XX