Missy

ally not her father nor mother nor Aunt Nettie, because grown-ups, though nice and well-meaning, with their inability to "understand," and their tendency to laugh make one feel shy and reticent

was a long time ago, when she was a little thing-only ten. Now she was nearly sixteen. Things were different. One now was conscious of the reality of inward inexperiences: these must influence life-one's own and, haply, the lives of others. What Missy did not emphasize in her mind was the mystery of how

as. The furs were soft and silky and luxurious, and Genevieve might well have been excused for wearing them rather triumphantly. Missy

n several Sunday afternoons, but this wasn't the entire crux of Missy's di

ssy was too young for such things. And when Missy, in rebuttal, once pointed out the promenading Genevieve, Mrs. Merr

urtains, made no answer; but she thought:

she t

wful loud. She is

h

too; he's laughing back straight at her.

th

ad some whi

talk of the grownups; but their voices floated to her as detached, far-off sounds, because she was engrossed in looking at a mental picture; a red-haired, laughing, admiring-eyed

what's all the

ught in mischief; but she answere

nice it would be if I h

mother. "When you've already go

was true she had a new set, warm and serviceable, but-well, a short-hai

ought to do you two winte

issy entire irrelevance. Aunt Nettie was a spinster, even older than Missy's mother, and her lack

ee-skirts expect to dress a

inking how nice it would be to have them." She was silent a moment, then added:

large order for complete happiness

ght have savoured of irony, but Missy feared irony

ways kind and particularly lovable; and he

in the indulgent quality of his tone, something in the expression of his eyes

That Summers boy who clerks in Pieker's grocery was with her. He once wanted Missy to go walking with him and I had to put my foot

onger but to become a woman. It is a hard moment for mothers, and no wonder that they seem unwarrantedly adamantine. Mrs. Merriam instinctively knew that wanting furs and wanting boys spelled the same evil. But M

dawning interest in the subject of white fox furs. But Mr. Merriam, n

y?" he demanded. "It's the first

e rest of the girls go walking with boys." "Inde

s from father made her feel suddenly w

nyway?" he ex

licably; she feared to essay spee

ed boy who clerks i

ed courageously. "I don't think he ought

ne who cried easily and this unexpected outburst amazed herself;

ched over and

don't want you to start thinking about the boys for a long while

tender toward him when he called her "daughter" in that gentle tone. So, sighing a secret little sigh, she smiled back at him a misty smile which he took for comprehension and a p

ous to make her feel happy and contented. So softened was he that, when Tess telephoned and invited Missy to a

ty-savouring of entertainment-and diversion from the same old congregation, the same old church choir, and the same old preacher. In literal truth, also, the new Methodist preacher was not old; he was quite young. Missy had already heard reports of him.

was once when her mother was away visiting and her less rigidly strict grandparents had let her stay up evenings and attend revival meetings with them. But all that had hap

nd then she wasn't quite so sure. As the sermon went on and his harsh but flexible voice mounted, now and then, to an impassioned height, she would feel herself mounting with it; then when it fell again to calmness, she would feel herself falling, too. She under

ation. She tore a corner from the hymnal fly-leaf and scribbled her verdict while the elder O'Neills and most of the old people were kneeling in prayer. Ass

-the O'Neill pew was only three rows back. It was too awful. What wou

e rising and falling with never a break-the Reverend MacGill smiled. Smiled straight at her-there

ht it possible to like a minister-especially

ily, as "one of Tess's little friends," he flashed her another smile which said, quite plainly: "I saw you up to your pranks, young lady!" But it was not until

adored h

Genevieve and Arthur, again out on a Sunday afternoon stroll, with a certain equanimity. Genevieve, though very striking and vivacious in her white fox, was indubitably a frivolous-minded girl; she,

not talk about it. In a way this was a pity, as his talk might have been instructive, but he got Tess and Missy to talking about themselves instead. Not in the way that

their young friends to attend. As Missy agreed to ally herself with his crusade, she felt a sort of lofty zeal glow up

m to attend the opening session of the revival the following Sunday night. Arthur blushed and stammered a little, so that, since Arthur w

nt, we hope you'll feel free to br

e the fact is I HAVE got a kind

ou to go with me. Reverend MacGill just appointed me on a kind of informal c

t you. Swell chance of YOU

r own became even more gracious as she said again: "We ho

this sustained anonymity

uests-preserved a calm, sweet, religious manner; it was far too relentlessly Christian to take note of waywardness. But the way she hung on the words of the minister, joined in song, bowed her head in prayer, should have been rebuke enough to any light conduct. It did seem to impress Arthur; for, looking at her uplifted face and shining eyes, as in her high, sweet treble, she sang, "Throw Out the Life-Line," he lost the poi

e a sort of running accompaniment on such occasions. Missy thought the interruptions, though proper and lending an atmosphere of fervour, rather a pity because they spoiled the effective rise and fall of the minister's voice. There was one recurrent n

to stop, Missy could not approve of what sh

im with the wad. It landed squarely on old Mrs. Lemon's ear, causing a "Blessed be the Lo-" to part midway in scandalized astonishment. Missy herself was scandalized. Of course old Mrs. Lemon was a hypocrite-but to be

nly withering look

spered Arthur-the excu

g Arthur to throw another wad. He, however, refused. That pleased Missy, for it made it easier to fix the blame for the breach of religious etiquette

told her good night as though nothing had happened, Missy deem

pealing when he looked at you like that-his eyes so mischievous

position, Arthur. You know Rev

it!" interrupted

ing at his arm-he gave the Reverend MacGill's missionary an open wink. Missy watched the white fox furs, their light-minded we

e. He said he had decided to come and hear the new minister, and Missy never suspected it was the unrest of a father who sees

njoyed being with her father-she could be so companionably silent with him. She trudged alon

ntly fath

eloquent,

uggled to get her

at her through t

eacher-Rever

tly fasci-" she broke off, remembering she was talk

ain it was father

oy who threw t

t was bad. Doubtless many others had seen-old people who didn't understan

-wad?" she asked

d boy. Wasn't it th

!-Arthur's reputati

?" persist

ight be best to try to explain just how it w

r-but it wasn't hi

t? Whose in t

f anyone directly-and, besides, there were likeabl

Arthur is under a kind of wrong

grown-ups. And Reverend MacGill was like him in that. She found time fleetingly to wish that Reverend MacGill were in some way related to her.

fluence is underminin

of phrase. It was because she wanted to convince him that Arthur didn'

ho lead him on to do things he wouldn't dream of doing if they'd le

ow she had arrived at it. A little confusedly she rushed on: "He ought to have uplifting, ennobling influences in his life-Arthur's at heart

rked up to it? A little appalled, a little abashed, but withal atingle

d her hopes with two fell sen

dissipated and then in the sam

" she began quaveringly, regretting the indis

y. "What I want is for you to get it into your head, once for all,

's being. They walked the last block in unbroken silence. As they passed through the gate, walked up the front path, shook the snow off their wraps

d white fox furs and everything, but they wouldn't let her try to be a good influence to the world! What was the use of renouncing earthly vanities for yourself if you couldn't help others to renounce them, too? Of course there was a certain pleasure, a kind of calm, peaceful satisfaction, an ecs

n some pretext; so she jumped quickly into bed. And, sure enough, she heard the door open. She shut her eyes. She heard her mother's voice: "Are you asleep,

g in her stretched out, out, out-to the driving clouds, to the gleaming, brandishing boughs, to the summerhouse so like something in a picture. And, as her soul stretched out to the beauty and grandeur and mystery of it all, there came over her a feeling of indefinable ecstasy, a vague, keen yearning to be really good in every way. Good to her Lord, to her father and mother and Aunt Nettie and little brother, to the Reverend MacGill with his fascinating smile and good works, to everybody-the whole

f, half-ponderin

n, and the thrill of hearing your own voice singing sublime hymns, and the inspired swell of Reverend MacGill's voice when he prays with such expression? It is real ecstasy when you get the right kind of feeling-you're almost willing to renounce earthly vanities. But Arthur doesn't realize what it MEANS. How can I show him, dear Jesus? B

with Jesus and her conscience. Then she discovered she was going off to sleep, so she sprang to her feet and jumped back into bed. A great change had

shopping, mother was in bed with one of her headaches, and Missy had an inexplicably sore throat. This last calamity was attributed, in a hurried conclave in mother's darkened

to church in the first

ther darkly. Missy's heart sank; she l

ke that," he added firmly. "It

proper religious influence if she didn't attend services

from school today," he continu

other's being sick, as always is the case when a mother is sick, seemed to add an extra heaviness to the pervasive stillness. The blustery day invited reading, but Missy couldn't find anything in the house she hadn't already read; and s

e kitchen, telling herself that Marguerite shouldn't be disturbed at her washtubs. So she herself let Arthur in. All spr

, "did you pray for

n of things like that,

r cho

s!" Then he sobered and, casually-a little too casually

throat." She didn't deem it necessary to say anything

o bad. I was th

ce to be a really good influence-for surely getting Arthur to church again, even though for the main purpose of seeing her home, was better than for him not to go to church at all. It is excusable to sort of inveigle a sin

oing to ch

hinking hard.

ave to go to the library to-night. I've

l the Cherryvales of the land! Winter-time haunt of young love, rivalling band-concerts in the Public Square on summer

e through at the Library?"

to reflect that it's an inconsistent sore throat

that way about that time," opined

nice," said M

Then, resolutely she squashed her thrills; she must remember that this meeting was for a Christian cause. The motive was what made it all right for her to disobey-that is, to SEEM

to the Library-mother seemed to think girls went there evenings chiefly to meet boys! Mother would n

t which mother had appeared, pale an

little while to See what th

" mother replied listlessly. "It w

st a half a block can't hurt me if I bundle up." Missy had formulated her p

then," agr

n two places at once-imaginatively in the brain and fearsomely in the stomach. Nor is a guilty conscience a reassuring companion under such circumstances. Missy kept telling herself that, if she HAD lied a little bit, it was really her parents' fault; if they had only let her go to chu

he seemed, strangely, to have forgotten about any "history references." But, as the hands on the big clock above the librarian's desk moved toward half-

lpitated, he looked over at her, smiled, and made an interrogative movement with his eyebrows. More palpitant by the second, she replaced her magazines and got into her wraps. As she moved toward t

ook her arm to help her

ries upon her. She realized that Raymond Bonner was much handsomer and richer; and that Kitty Allen's cousin Jim from Macon City, in his uniform of a military cadet, was much more distinguished-looking; and that Don Jones was much more humbly adori

ong the icy sidewalks, was of very ordinary things: the weather-Missy's sore throat (sweet solicitude fr

were chattering and her legs seemed wooden, but she'd have died rather than suggest running a block to warm up. Anyway, despite physical discomforts, there was a certain deliciousness in the situation

s her o

dly, Arthur," she said in

" in some

er her serviceable, unw

ursued, in a tone of one

lack of respect for religious

a little. "I suppose it was a silly thing

thing," she said, sadly.

don't see why you have

't laugh, scoff at her; she had feared

t think it's a pleasure to me to f

fault?" he aske

lts are THERE?"

nswered with cheerful logic. "Everyb

s, in time she could be a good influence to him. But at a loss just how to answer his personal allusion,

s a litt

to the Library again to-morrow n

t she knew "why," and her k

ad to look up some references or somet

w just yet," she murmured, confus

by, anyway," he said.

, ma

ng to say, she glanced again over her sho

ere-following us! He look

consciously quickened his. He knew-as all of the boys of "

d now accelerated his gait, also. "It IS father! I'll cut across this v

the vacant lot with her, but

-I won't be afraid. You'd bette

, then-let me know how things come out!"-

umbled on, fell down, felt her stocking tear viciously. She glanced over her shoulder-had the tall figure back there on the sidewalk slowed down, too, or was it only imagination? She scrambled to her f

she stum

etly, she entered. There was a light in the kitchen and she could hear mothe

poppin

ffly. "Seems to me you've been a long

r waiting to appease her sudden craving

oes off at once!

." And she hurried up the back stai

ed. She lay there, listening. It must have been a half-hour later when she heard a cab stop in front of the house, and then

yelids. But, just as she was dozing off, she was rou

lee

was not one to be feared. And, responding to that tenderness of tone, sharp

present from town." He wa

t the cords, accepted his proffered pen-knife, and then-oh, dear heaven!

smiling. "Mother doesn'

ions which tied her tongue, which underlay her fervent good night kiss. But he could never have guessed

caressing the silky treasure. As soon as he was gone,

ng my dear father and mother. If you'll forgive me just

al faith, does lift a load amazingly-she clim

e had her white fox furs, much prettier than Genevieve Hicks's-oh, she DID hope they'd let her go to church next Sunday night so she could wear them! And she'd had a serious little talk with Arthur-the way seemed

d wait in vain. She ought to let him know, some way. And she ought to let him know, too, that that man wasn't father, after all. What if he was worrying, this minute, thinking she might have been caught and punished. It didn't seem right, while

t of bed and dressed herself in the dark. She put on her cloak and hat. After a second's hesitation she ad

. She was glad Arthur's boarding-house was only two blocks away. She knew which was his window; she stood beneath it and softly

thing, now!-I'll explain all about it when I get a chance. And that wasn't father-it turned out

zedly, she turned and scurried like a s

e moonlight; was resolving to urge him to go to church next Sunday night even if SHE cou

the kitchen door in safety and regained her own room without detection. In bed once again, a great, soft, holy pe

pologetic explanations to her mother: everything had seemed to come down on the child in a lump-commands against walking and against boys and against going

y believed-she wasn't capable of "understanding" a daughter's, didn't have it in her, then, to spo