"The garden is a little old pippin," Dulcie boasted. "We can make that all O. K. in a day or so, but the house did stump me! Janet MacGregor is an angel sent straight from heaven. If I ever get a commish' to sculpt an angel I shall use Janet MacGregor for my model, little Miss By-the-Day," she sighed drowsily, "your middle name must be Luck." "My middle name is Trenton," answered Felicia literally. "Dulcie, I am going to tell you something. Something you must remember. When our little garden is lovely again, if any one--ever--kisses--you out there and you love him--don't let any one take you away from him. Because it might be too long afterward that you come back--you might be old like Grandy and Piqueur--so that he wouldn't know you when he saw you. He wouldn't know that you were the--Girl,--" Something in the level flatness of her tones almost broke the Sculptor Girl's heart. She reached out her hand and caught Felicia's and gripped it hard. She did not say much but what she said Felicia found strangely comforting. "Why--" her reply was the breathless reply of discovery, "I hadn't noticed till now--_how young your hands are!"_ They awoke to the dazzling wonder of the new day, a bit stiff from their unaccustomed couches but exuberant over the adventure. Almost before they had finished their simple breakfast the excited Janet MacGregor appeared. It was Dulcie Dierckx, impractical Dulcie Dierckx, who took charge. She was a very different person from the hysterical girl that Felicia had brought home with her two days before. "You'd better go to your by-the-day." Dulcie was almost saucy. "Babiche and I will stay and guard the fort. I'll show Janet all the dirt, I think there's enough to satisfy even her unholy craving--and then if she still wants to go into the deal I can go to the storage place. I know I could arrange it because I did it once for Aunt Jen; it's a bore, it takes all kinds of time, you'd hate it and--" tears threatened, "unless I'm doing something for my keep I can't stay."