"We are a couple of geese to dig all this up now. I was just sentimental enough to hang on to one of the letters--I suppose it's because they are the only letters I've ever had from a man--but I see my mistake now. I will destroy it." She slipped the letter into her pocket with the tiniest sigh. "So there." (But the letter was not destroyed.) "I wish you'd meet someone down at the Whites'--some perfectly grand man. I should think Uncle Jasper would realize--" Isolde's tone was so tragic that Trude laughed, now with genuine amusement. "I was thinking of some of Uncle Jasper's friends," she explained. "They are mostly nice, fat settled bankers and lawyers, but if any bachelor doctors, tinkers or tailors slip in I promise to flirt desperately--" "Trude, you think I am joking and I am not. If you don't meet someone at the Whites' where _will_ you meet him? What chance have you and I, shut up here, to know the kind of men we'd--we'd like to know? Do you think I enjoy the namby-pamby sort that flock here to sit in Dad's chair? No, indeed. And Trude--I'm--twenty-six next October! _I'm--an old maid!_" Before Isolde's earnestness Trude unknowingly lowered her voice to a soft note. "Do you feel like that, too, Issy? I've felt that way often. I'm twenty-four. But I'm not afraid of being an old maid--I've always sort of known I'd be one--but I catch myself just longing to do _something_ with my life, different--as little Sid put it. Then I chastise myself severely for my repinings. Anyway, it'll be fun watching Vick's and Sid's experiences, won't it? Bless them, they seem to have escaped our bounds, don't they?" "I am afraid my vicarious enjoyment of their adventures may be tempered with a little jealousy. I am not as noble as you are, Trude. It is hard to think that you and I have to go on sitting still and watching our lives go by--and our one and only life, remember!" Trude shook herself a little--perhaps she was "chastising" her inner spirit. "Come, we mustn't get mopey on the eve of a holiday. They're too rare to spoil. And two trunks still to pack. Do you think the Leaguers will mind if we shroud that painting in the living-room. It's the best thing we own and I hate to have it get too dusty." Isolde lifted her shoulders rebelliously. "I don't know what has happened to me but, do you know, Trude, I am beginning to think it's the limit that we have to consider the League in even a little thing like that. Thank goodness we _are_ going to have a holiday! But I wonder if the summer will bring anything to any of us." In answer Trude smiled down into the trunk. "Well--it's bringing something to Sid. Rather she went out and got it. And it surely will to Vick, new clothes if nothing more. And I hope it will to you, too, Issy, dear, something grand and--contenting." It was typical of Trude that she did not think of herself. CHAPTER XI INDEPENDENCE "Golly day, but I'm tired!"