She had promised Rod to go with him out into the country early on Sunday morning, to do which she would omit Mass. A mortal sin? That was what she had been taught, but she had missed Mass before, for less cause. Poor Rod! He had so eagerly begged her to do this for him! He showed such intense feeling about it; it seemed to matter to him beyond the intrinsic importance of taking that special train, going to that particular place on this coming Sunday. Again: why? But how could it be a mortal sin to gratify the dear fellow? She was not going to give up the Church, of course, but it did go rather far in some things, notably in the matter of turning meat-eating on forbidden days, and Mass-omission on commanded days into a mortal sin. She intended to remain a Catholic, but it could hardly be that missing Mass deliberately on a Sunday would shut one out of heaven if she died that night unshriven, uncontrite. She hated to break her promise to Nan for the first time; she would write Nan in the morning and tell her that she should not be at Mass on Sunday, but not to mind; she would go other Sundays. It was fair to let Nan know that she was breaking her promise; letting her know seemed to lessen the breach of faith with nice Nannie. She must also hasten to advise her to marry Joe Hamilton. Funny little Nannie! As though she would not marry him anyway! Nan was fond of him, Cis was sure of that, fond enough of him to predict the marriage happy, but Cis thought that she might have been equally fond of another nice boy; Joe was a nice boy. It was all right for Nannie; Cis recognized in her the woman whose children would be the absorbing devotion of her life, her husband would be sure to drift pleasantly into second place. It was all right for Nan, but it would not do for Cis! If ever she married it would be a man whose presence blinded her to all other creatures; whose life and death included her own; she would worship him, live for him, breathe in him, count nothing costly that contributed to his welfare, even to his pleasure. She would be good to her children, love them, look after them to the best of her ability, but--weigh them in the scale with her husband? Preposterous! She would be first of all what Eve was to Adam, his mate superaboundingly. Why had that handsome, bad-tempered Davenport girl acted as she had acted? She wanted Rod. Why did she? Cis felt a fierce sort of fury toward her, and clutched Rod in her thoughts; she gloated over him and over the thought that the Davenport girl could not take him from her. She had never before been dominated for even an instant by an unreasoning, overpowering hatred for a person, as if she would cut her down as she stood, if she moved hand or foot upon her preserves. _Her_ preserves! What did it mean? Jealous? But what did that mean? Of all things, what did _that_ mean? She, free, frank, comradely Cis Adair, whom all the boys had liked, who had liked them