She was roused by the sound of Ruth saying good night to someone at the gate, invisible because of the intervening foliage. Why, it must be dreadfully late. The Dipper had moved away round to the south, and the heat of the day was all gone, and the air was full of the cool, scented breath of leaves and flowers and grass. Ruth's lights shone out upon the balcony. Susan turned to slip into her own room. But Ruth heard, called out peevishly: "Who's there?" "Only me," cried Susan. She longed to go in and embrace Ruth, and kiss her. She would have liked to ask Ruth to let her sleep with her, but she felt Ruth wouldn't understand. "What are you doing out there?" demanded Ruth. "It's 'way after one." "Oh--dear--I must go to bed," cried Susan. Ruth's voice somehow seemed to be knocking and tumbling her new dream-world. "What time did Sam Wright leave here?" asked Ruth. She was standing in her window now. Susan saw that her face looked tired and worn, almost homely. "At ten," she replied. "Uncle George knocked on the banister." "Are you sure it was ten?" said Ruth sharply. "I guess so. Yes--it was ten. Why?" "Oh--nothing." "Was he at Sinclairs'?" "He came as it was over. He and Lottie brought me home." Ruth was eyeing her cousin evilly. "How did you two get on?" Susan flushed from head to foot. "Oh--so-so," she answered, in an uncertain voice. "I don't know why he didn't come to Sinclairs'," snapped Ruth. Susan flushed again--a delicious warmth from head to foot. She knew why. So he, too, had been dreaming alone. Love! Love! "What are you smiling at?" cried Ruth crossly. "Was I smiling?. . . Do you want me to help you undress?" "No," was the curt answer. "Good night." "Please let me unhook it, at least," urged Susan, following Ruth into her room. Ruth submitted. "Did you have a good time?" asked Susan. "Of course," snapped Ruth. "What made you think I didn't?" "Don't be a silly, dear. I didn't think so." "I had an awful time--awful!" Ruth began to sob, turned fiercely on Susan. "Leave me alone!" she cried. "I hate to have you touch me." The dress was, of course, entirely unfastened in the back. "You had a quarrel with Arthur?" asked Susan with sympathy. "But you know he can't keep away from you. Tomorrow----" "Be careful, Susan, how you let Sam Wright hang around you," cried Ruth, with blazing eyes and trembling lips. "You be careful--that's all I've got to say." "Why, what do you mean?" asked Susan wonderingly. "Be careful! He'd never think for a minute of marrying you." The words meant nothing to Susan; but the tone stabbed into her heart. "Why not?" she said. Ruth looked at her cousin, hung her head in shame. "Go--go!" she begged. "Please go. I'm a bad girl--bad--_bad_! Go!" And, crying hysterically, she pushed amazed Susan through the connecting door, closed and bolted it. CHAPTER IV