Two steely blue eyes opened slowly, and seemed to bore into the soft depth of Janet's brown ones. "I did; there can be no doubt of that; nor, I may add, of your reply." For perhaps the first time in her life Janet interrupted her. "I know I said me instead of I, but I was thinking of something else and I forgot," she exclaimed impatiently. "And may I ask what you were thinking of?" Mrs. Page inquired in surprise. Janet frowned and shook her head. "It's not the slightest use to, for you'd never, never understand. You see, it was something entirely different from all this." She looked around the immaculate room and shook her head again, this time in despair. Mrs. Page lifted herself on to one elbow and looked at her grand-daughter carefully for a full minute. "Janet," she said severely, "what has come over you?" There was a long pause, for Janet did not reply. She was watching a butterfly out in the garden and trying to decide what it was he was whispering to that big floppy rose. Mrs. Page settled back into her pillows and pulled the coverlet well up under her chin. "You may go," she said, pointing a bony finger toward the door. "I am about to write to your brother. I regret that I will have to tell him that you are not only careless but rude." "Yes, grandmother." Janet stood up, and after she had carefully straightened the chair upon which she had been sitting she walked quietly out of the room. Once in the hall, with the door closed, a tiny sigh escaped her. She leaned up against the old clock and stared at a patch of sunlight on the rug; Two big round tears rolled down her cheeks unnoticed. Boru came over inquisitively from his place by the stairs and licked her hand. She dropped to her knees beside him and hugged him impulsively. "Come along, old fellow," she whispered. "Let's go up to the 'widow's walk' and think it all out. I guess grandmother is right; something has come over me." CHAPTER II ON THE WIDOWS' WALK "But just what is it?" she mused a few minutes later, as she settled herself comfortably and pulled Boru's shaggy head down to her knee. The "widows' walk" was Janet's favorite place in which to think things out, for it was on the flat roof of the house, away from any possible interruptions. Martha, the old servant, had long ago given up attempting the rickety stairs that led to it. It was in itself a rather dangerous spot. Many of the boards that went to make the platform were broken or badly rotted from long exposure to wind and rain. The railing that ran around it was in the last stage of decay. But there was something about it, perhaps the feeling of being up among the tree tops, that made Janet disregard its dangers.