“I want you to talk to Diantha, Doctor Major,” Mrs. Bell struck in. “I'm going to ask you to excuse me, and go and lie down for a little. I do believe she'll listen to you more than to anybody.” The mother retired, feeling sure that the good man who had known her daughter for over fifteen years would have a restraining influence now; and Diantha braced herself for the attack. It came, heavy and solid, based on reason, religion, tradition, the custom of ages, the pastoral habit of control and protection, the father's instinct, the man's objection to a girl's adventure. But it was courteous, kind, and rationally put, and she met it point by point with the whole-souled arguments of a new position, the passionate enthusiasm of her years. They called a truce. “I can see that you _think_ its your duty, young, woman--that's the main thing. I think you're wrong. But what you believe to be right you have to do. That's the way we learn my dear, that's the way we learn! Well--you've been a good child ever since I've known you. A remarkably good child. If you have to sow this kind of wild oats--” they both smiled at this, “I guess we can't stop you. I'll keep your secret--” “Its not a secret really,” the girl explained, “I'll tell them as soon as I'm settled. Then they can tell--if they want to.” And they both smiled again. “Well--I won't tell till I hear of it then. And--yes, I guess I can furnish that document with a clean conscience.” She gave him paper and pen and he wrote, with a grin, handing her the result. She read it, a girlish giggle lightening the atmosphere. “Thank you!” she said earnestly. “Thank you ever so much. I knew you would help me.” “If you get stuck anywhere just let me know,” he said rising. “This Proddy Gal may want a return ticket yet!” “I'll walk first!” said Diantha. “O Dr. Major,” cried her mother from the window, “Don't go! We want you to stay to supper of course!” But he had other calls to make, he said, and went away, his big hands clasped behind him; his head bent, smiling one minute and shaking his head the next. Diantha leaned against a pearly eucalyptus trunk and watched him. She would miss Dr. Major. But who was this approaching? Her heart sank miserably. Mrs. Warden--and _all_ the girls. She went to meet them--perforce. Mrs. Warden had always been kind and courteous to her; the girls she had not seen very much of, but they had the sweet Southern manner, were always polite. Ross's mother she must love. Ross's sisters too--if she could. Why did the bottom drop out of her courage at sight of them? “You dear child!” said Mrs. Warden, kissing her. “I know just how you feel! You want to help my boy! That's your secret! But this won't do it, my dear!” “You've no idea how badly Ross feels!” said Madeline. “Mrs. Delafield dropped in just now and told us. You ought to have seen him!” “He didn't believe it of course,” Adeline put in. “And he wouldn't say a thing--not a thing to blame you.”