She awoke very early that last day of all. She still slept in the little room at the top of the house. Her modest traveling bags were packed and ready. Over the back of the chair hung her demure traveling coat and veil. But tucked away out of sight in the walnut bureau were a scarf and a carved Spanish comb. The very thoughts of them gave her stage fright. It was only by keeping her mind sternly upon her journey that she could steady herself at all. She dressed herself absent- mindedly in one of Dulcie's much mended frocks, "Maybe there's a garden with my French house," she thought as she looked down into the back yard. She reached for _The theory and practise of gardening_ and tucked it into the top of Grandy's bag. All day long the house seethed with the excitement of her leave- taking. Most of the morning belonged to Dulcie, who was still working feverishly on Pandora. The Painter Boy made believe sulk because it was late afternoon before Felice would come to sit for him for the last time. He was really quite through with his painting. It was only because they were all longing to have her in the green gown and he'd promised the women folk that he would keep her so occupied that she wouldn't know what a wonderful farewell party her "children" were planning for her. She shook her head when she stood looking at the picture. "It's not I you've painted, Nor', it's some one who's young! Shall I tell you a secret? I do wish you could take all your brushes and make me as lovely as that girl in the picture--oh, Nor'--she hasn't a gray hair!" "Pouf! Those two or three little gray things that you got worrying about us!" he touched them lightly, "Why do you care how old you are-- " He kissed the edge of her sleeve awkwardly. His eyes were dancing. "I guess something--" he teased her. "I guess you only 'pretend' you're old--" It was the Architect who rescued her. He was in such a temper that he completely forgot that Felicia was to be kept at the top of the house until the hour for the "party." "It's all very well, Miss Felicia Day," he sputtered, "for you to pick up a lot of poor old half-blind carpenters that nobody will hire because they're old--it's a nice sweet philanthropic idea! But they're absolutely ruining everything! It would cheaper to pay 'em for their time and let 'em sit outside while we hire some regular persons to work! What they've done today is spoiling the whole scheme--the yard looks like a Swiss cheese--come and see--its simply awful!" She winked archly at the Painter Boy. She gathered up her green skirts daintily and descended the broad stairs.