“I don't know what I'll do when she gets married and goes away,” Miss Susan said. “She's almost like a sister, the way she helps out. I guess folks don't know how many things can come up in a boarding-house to set everybody cross at each other, but Henrietta just keeps the front part of the house all nice and friendly all the time. I don't know whatever I 'll do without her.” It was so in this matter of Lem. “It is quite useless to send him to school for the short time there is left,” Henrietta told Miss Susan. “He wouldn't fit into any class, and he'd be unhappy and make work for the teacher and be so far behind his class that the schooling would n't do him any good. Let him wait until the fall term. Gay and Lorna and I can tutor him a little this summer.” “If you ain't too busy getting ready to get married and quit us,” said Susan. “You'll be so busy getting ready--” “I'll have a little time for Lem, I hope,” Henrietta said brightly, smiling at him. “And Gay and Lorna will be here.” “Not being lucky enough to have our Billy Vanes,” said Lorna. “Now don't be jealous of a poor old maid,” Henrietta teased. “But we are,” said Lorna, and smiled inwardly. “Nobody loves us.” She glanced at Freeman Todder, but it was one of his bad mornings, of which he had a great many. He was pale and heavy-eyed and his hand shook. No one at the table knew when he had come in the night before, but it had been after three in the morning. He had had a long session of poker, with bad luck, and his pocket held just eighteen cents. He kept his eyes on his plate. “What do you think, Mr. Todder?” Susan asked. “What?” he aaked, looking up suddenly. “Do you think Lem ought to wait until fall to start schooling?” “What do I know about it?” he asked. “It's nothing to me.” There was an unpleasant pause. Rudeness, even when coming from a man as evidently out of sorts as Freeman was, kills lively spirits. Henrietta came to the rescue. “Did you ever see a lovelier day?” she asked. “Just see the sun on that vase of syringas! This is the sort of day I wish I was a Maud Muller. Lem, it is a crime to be in school a day like this, isn't it?” “Yes'm,” said Lem. “I guess so.” “So we won't make you go,” she said gayly. “Lorna and I are poor slaves. We have to go whether we like it or not.” She arose and went to the door, humming. She went into the hall and stood a moment at the screen door, looking out, and then went out upon the porch and walked slowly down toward the gate, stopping to pick a dandelion. At the top of the terrace steps she stood, waiting. Freeman Todder, taking his hat and cane, followed her. To any one seeing them at the top of the steps they would have seemed to have met there by chance. “Well?” Henrietta asked. There was no lightness, no affection in her voice; no anger either. “It went against me last night. I lost the whole twenty. The damnedest luck, Et.”