"And you love me for the opposite reasons, eh!" she inquired. "I don't think they are opposite reasons," Janet replied. "I love you--well, respectfully, and I like to think of your being here. I think perhaps I'm proud that you are my grandmother." Mrs. Page seemed to think over what she had heard. "Well, it may surprise you to hear it," she said at last, "but I love you. I love you very dearly. I have been a very selfish old woman and perhaps I have not been very gentle with you. Tom says I haven't. Certainly I have never kissed you and put my arm around you, but I have always loved you. I want you to remember that. You have always been very patient with me too, and I realize it. Sometimes I've wished you would lose your temper, but now I'm glad you didn't. Phyllis is more like her father than you are, but I suppose that serves me right. I thought that I could love her the first day I saw her. I do love her, but not as much as I love you. You are the finer of the two and some day you'll prove it." She turned over and faced the wall Janet rose to go. "When I die,"--Mrs. Page spoke from the depth of the pillow--"I am going to leave everything I have to you. I am telling you this because you are going away, not because I think I am going to die. Now you may go." Janet left the room, a queer feeling of regret in her heart. She wanted to take her grandmother in her arms and kiss her as she knew Phyllis would have done, but a restraint, born from the custom of years, held her back, and she closed the door behind her, softly, as she had always done. Phyllis was nowhere to be found, so Janet went up to the "widow's walk" to think over what her grandmother had said. She found Tom already there, smoking his pipe and reading. "Hello, what did grandmother want?" he inquired lazily. "You were with her an awfully long time. Phyllis got tired of waiting for you and went off for a walk with Harry Waters." "Tom,"--Janet spoke very seriously, and Tom put down his book to listen--"when I go to the city with Phyllis and Auntie Mogs may I come back and see grandmother whenever I want to?" "Why, certainly you may; what makes you ask?" Tom replied. "Because I think grandmother is sorry I am going; really sorry, I mean, not just angry; and I think I ought to come back and see her every once in a while," Janet told him. "Bless your heart, I think you are right. Auntie Mogs and I were talking about the same thing only last night, and she said you could all come up whenever she wanted you." Tom pulled her down beside him and rumpled her hair. "Now are you satisfied?" he asked, laughing. Janet nodded. "Tell me all over again just what the plans are!" she said as she settled herself comfortably.