"I have kept mine," said Aunt Peace. "I have deliberately forgotten all the unpleasant things and remembered the others. When a little pleasure has flashed for a moment against the dark, I have made that jewel mine. I have hundreds of them, from the time my baby fingers clasped my first rose, to the night you and Lynn came to bring more sunshine into my old life. I call it my Necklace of Perfect Joy. When the world goes wrong, I have only to close my eyes and remember all the links in my chain, set with gems, some large and some small, but all beautiful with the beauty which never fades. It is all I can take with me when I go. My material possessions must stay behind, but my Necklace of Perfect Joy will bring me happiness to the end, when I put it on, to be nevermore unclasped." "Aunt Peace," asked Margaret, after an understanding silence, "why did you never marry?" Miss Field leaned forward and methodically stirred the fire. "I may be wrong," she said, "but I have always felt that it was indelicate to allow one's self to care for a gentleman." IV Social Position On Wednesday, the dullest person might have felt that there was something in the air. The old house, already exquisitely clean, received further polishing without protest. Savoury odours came from the kitchen, and Iris rubbed the tall silver candlesticks until they shone like new. "What is it?" asked Lynn. "Are we going to have a party and am I invited?" "It is Wednesday," explained Iris. "Well, what of it?" "Doctor Brinkerhoff comes to see Aunt Peace every Wednesday evening." "Who is Doctor Brinkerhoff?" "The family physician of East Lancaster." "He wasn't here last Wednesday." "That was because you and your mother had just come. Aunt Peace sent him a note, saying that her attention was for the moment occupied by other guests from out of town. It was the first Wednesday evening he has missed for more than ten years." "Oh," said Lynn. "Are they going to be married?" "Aunt Peace wouldn't marry anybody. She receives Doctor Brinkerhoff because she is sorry for him. "He has no social position," Iris continued, feeling the unspoken question. "He is not of our class and he used to live in West Lancaster, but Aunt Peace says that any gentleman who is received by a lady in her bedroom may also be received in her parlour. Another lady, who thinks as Aunt Peace does, entertains him on Saturday evenings." Iris sat there demurely, her rosy lips primly pursed, and vigorously rubbed the tall candlestick. Lynn fairly choked with laughter. "Oh," he cried, "you funny little thing!" "I am not a little thing and I am not funny. I consider you very impertinent." "What is 'social position'?" asked Irving, instantly sobering. "How do we get it?" "It is born with us," answered Iris, dipping her flannel cloth in ammonia, "and we have to live up to it. If we have low tastes, we lose it, and it never comes back." "Wonder if I have it," mused Lynn.