When I closed the door to my room that night I did not cry, although my throat ached with wanting to. As I drew my curtain and looked out into the dark night I thought of Juliet Adams, sleeping peacefully like a child, and I realised how little she knew of sorrow. When the big clock in the hall struck twelve I was kneeling before my bureau, stacking my underclothes in neat little piles ready for my trunk. How little I knew that what I then thought my pretty ninety-eight-cent nightgowns, long-sleeved and high-necked, would about die of shame for their plainness, before the beautiful lace and French hand-embroidered lingerie represented at midnight spreads at school. I'm glad I didn't know then that I would come to despise my poor faithful clothes. I was piling my gloves into a box when there came a soft knock at the door. Alec came in, in his red and grey bath-towel bath-robe. "Not in bed yet?" he said gently, and came over and sat down near me on the floor with his back against the wall, his knees drawn up almost to his chin and his arms clasped about them. We sat there for a moment silently, and I grimly folded gloves. Then, "Good stuff, Bobbie," he said finally--and oh, so kindly--"Good nerve." I turned and looked straight at him. "No, Alec," I said, "there isn't anything good about it. It's horrid feelings and hate that make me go." He looked away from me as he always does when he disapproves, but he put his hand on my shoulder and I was grateful for that touch. I turned on him frantically and burst out, "Alec Vars, you are the only one in this whole house I love--you and Father," I amended, for we all adore Father. "You're the only one who is kind or thoughtful. I've tried to do my duty in this place by you and the others, but I guess I haven't succeeded. Now I'm going away and we'll see how the twins enjoy a dose of Aunt Sarah." I paused, then added, "Look here, Alec, don't let Ruth go out to the Country Club. She is pretty and the older men--why, your friends talk to her and make her vain and hold her on the arms of their chairs. Don't let _her_ go. And the twins--I haven't told on them yet--but they're smoking! They're dead scared for fear I'll tell Father, and I said that I should if I caught them at it again." "Good Bobbie, you'd keep us straight if you could, wouldn't you?" "No, I wouldn't," I flared back. "It's hate I feel and--" Alec put his hand over my mouth. "What shall I do to you?" he laughed. I rose abruptly, crossed the room and closed the window at my back. There was a big lump in my throat and I stopped at the marble wash-stand built into one corner of my room, and took a drink of water. Then I went back to my glove-sorting. Finally I was able to ask, "Alec, were you at the bottom of this?" "Oh, I don't know," he smiled. "Possibly--I--or Will Maynard." "Will Maynard!" I exclaimed. Dr. Maynard is a physician in our town, and was a classmate of Alec's years ago in college. He has nothing to do with _me_.