"Ah, well--it's all in the day's work!"--she had been saying that to herself as she covered her typewriter, and then, just as she was fearing that her exit would be a maudlin one, Joe called up to say that he did not think it would be too cold for the machine, and why not spin out somewhere on the North Shore for a good dinner? Now that had been nice of Joe, for it tided her over the good-byes. To-day she was engaged in the pre-nuptial rite of destroying her past, indulging in the letter destroying ceremonial which seems always to attend the eve of matrimony. It was so that Ernestine found her when she stopped on her way from the university that afternoon. Mrs. McCormick was sewing yards upon yards of lace on something when Ernestine came in. "She's right in there," she said, referring to Georgia in a sepulchral tone which might fittingly have been employed for: "The remains have been laid out in the front room." Georgia herself, though not sepulchral, was subdued. "My, but I'm glad you've come," she said, brushing aside several hundred letters that Ernestine might have a place to sit down. "I'm having the most terrible twinge of conscience." "Why, what about?" Georgia pointed to the clock. "Think of my not being at the office! I ought to be hanging around now for an afternoon assignment." "You'll get over that," Ernestine assured her, cheerfully. "Oh, I suppose so. One gets over everything--even being alive. Meanwhile, behold me,"--with a great sweep of her arms--"surrounded by my blighting past." "That one looks like Freddie Allen's writing," said Ernestine, giving an envelope at her foot a little shove. "It is," said Georgia, with feeling; "yes--it is. Poor Freddie--he was such a nice boy." "I suppose he's nice still," observed Ernestine. "Oh, I suppose so. I'm sure I don't know. He's way back there in the dim past." "Well, do you want him up here in the sunny present?" Ernestine inquired, much entertained. "No, oh no--if I had wanted him I would have had him," with which reversion to the normal Georgia they laughed understandingly. She shook herself free of the dust of her past then, piled up the pillows and settled herself on the bed. "But we had some good times back there in the dim past, didn't we, Ernestine?" "Some of them were good times," replied Ernestine, a little soberly. "Of course our college life would have been happier if we had been able to pull down that sophomore flag. I've always thought Jack Stewart might have done a little better with that. But as long as we kept Jim Jones away from every party in his junior year, perhaps we should be satisfied." Georgia sighed heavily. "And it is a joy to think back to your telling the dean he didn't have the courage of his convictions when he let them fire Stone for heresy. Oh there are a good many things to be thankful for. You always had lots of nerve when it came to a show-down. You looked so lady-like, and yet you really weren't at all."