“There’s no chance for Tom, Cis?” hinted Nan. “I thought, possibly, when you sent Rodney Moore away--I know you did send him!--that maybe--? Mother is so anxious for it; she’s going to talk to you before you go.” “Oh, Nan, don’t let her!” protested Cis. “That’s awful; second-hand wooing! If a girl were beginning to think about a man I’d suppose that it would turn her off to have his mother come to offer him to her! Don’t let your mother try that! And help me to dodge nice young Tommy! Because I’ll never in all this world marry the boy, so why bother about it?” “Why, indeed,” sighed Nan. “I’ll try to head off my family. I think Tom is convinced that he stands no chance.” “He knows I’m truthful and sure of what I want,” Cis said lightly. “Now I’m going to talk to Mr. Singer. We’ve everything running in fine shape down there; it won’t be hard to fit someone into my shoes.” “I wish Miss Gallatin would take it,” said Nan. “I wish she could,” Cis said thoughtfully. “But it ought to be someone younger, more ornamental. Girls forget that sort of woman made herself what she is by being the right sort of girl; they think they were always elderly and were born with serious, decorous clothes on, common-sense shoes, and carrying an umbrella to be ready for storms--a figurative umbrella against figurative storms, too! Miss Gallatin is going to stay on in the Lucas household when Jeanette leaves it. After all, she has a big field there; all those children and an invalid mother! I wish I could get a Catholic woman into the club of Bells--that’s what I call it, but Mr. Singer won’t let me use that nice name. Lots of the girls are the kind of Catholics I was, need the Catholic woman, and she wouldn’t harm the others! Girls aren’t a bad lot, but it’s marvellous how crookedly they see and think! I’d like to furnish them all with folding pocket rules to measure up by!” Nan laughed, then sighed. “You’d do for a pocket rule for all of them, if you’d stay here,” she said. “A girl like you can do wonders. I’m sorry, _sorry_ you’re going!” “Let’s hope I’ll shine as a light to girls in Beaconhite; there are girls there, silly Nancy!” laughed Cis. “Nan, I think they named that city expressly for my coming to it! Hasn’t it been a beacon on the height to me?” “It’s your post graduate college; it’s made you grow up. Oh dear, Cis, I’ve grown up, too, in the same time, but you have grown away from me!” “Fast friends forever!” Cis corrected her, and pretended to mop tears out of Nan’s eyes with her handkerchief.