When A.O. read that, much as she liked Jimmy Woods, she wished that the ground would open and swallow him before he could get to Washington, or else that it had opened and swallowed her before she drew such a picture of him for Elise to admire.  There were only two ways out of the dilemma that she could see:  confession or a persistent refusal to let her see him.  She must not even be allowed to hang over the banister and watch him pass through the hall, as she had proposed doing.

The more she persisted in her refusal the more determined Elise was to see him.  A.O. imagined she could feel herself growing thin and pale from so much lying awake of nights to invent some excuse to circumvent her.  If she only knew what day Jimmy was to be in Washington she could arrange to meet him there.  So she could plan a trip to the dentist with Miss Gilmer, the trained nurse, as chaperon.  She wouldn’t have minded introducing him to Elise if she had never painted him to her in such glowing colours as her hero.  She wished she hadn’t told her it was Jimmy who was coming.  She could have called him by his middle name, Gordon—­Mr. Gordon, and passed him off as some ordinary acquaintance in whom Elise could have no possible interest.

It was a relief when Elise turned her attention to Mary’s affairs, and when she saw that her turn was coming again, she set her teeth together grimly, determined to make no answer.

Presently, to her surprise, Elise relapsed into silence, and stood looking out of the window, tapping on the kettle with her spoon in a preoccupied way.  Then she laughed suddenly as if she saw something funny, and being questioned, refused to give the reason.

“I just thought of something,” she said, laughing again.  “Something too funny for words.  I’ll have to go now,” she added, as if the cause of her mysterious mirth was in some way responsible for her departure.

“Thanks mightily for the candy, Mary.  It’s the best ever.  You’re going to be overflowed with orders, I’m sure.  Well, farewell friends and fellow citizens, I’ll see you later.”

“What do you suppose it was that made her laugh so,” asked A.O., suspiciously.  “There’s always some mischief brewing when she acts that way.  I don’t dare leave her by herself a minute for fear she’ll plot something against me.  I’ll have to be going, too, Mary.”

Left to herself, Mary began washing the utensils she had used.  By the time she had removed every trace of her candy-making, the confections set out on the window sill in the wintry air were firm and hard, all ready to be wrapped in the squares of paraffine paper and packed in the boxes waiting for them.  She whistled softly as she drew in the plates, but stopped with a start when she realized that it was Elise’s song she was echoing: 

     “Amang the train there is a swain
        I dearly lo’e mysel’.”