“One of the Mercer girls?” I suggested, but Jimmy raised a horrified hand.

“You don’t know Aunt Selina,” he protested.  “I couldn’t offer Leila in the gown she’s got on, unless she wore a shawl, and Betty is too fair.”

Anne came in just then, and the whole story had to be told again to her.  She was ecstatic.  She said it was good enough for a play, and that of course she would be Mrs. Jimmy for that length of time.

“You know,” she finished, “if it were not for Dal, I would be Mrs. Jimmy for any length of time.  I have been devoted to you for years, Billiken.”

But Dallas refused peremptorily.

“I’m not jealous,” he explained, straightening and throwing out his chest, “but—­well, you don’t look the part, Anne.  You’re—­you are growing matronly, not but what you suit me all right.  And then I’d forget and call you ‘mammy,’ which would require explanation.  I think it’s up to you, Kit.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort!” I snapped.  “It’s ridiculous!”

“I dare you!” said Dallas.

I refused.  I stood like a rock while the storm surged around me and beat over me.  I must say for Jim that he was merely pathetic.  He said that my happiness was first; that he would not give me an uncomfortable minute for anything on earth; and that Bella had been perfectly right to leave him, because he was a sinking ship, and deserved to be turned out penniless into the world.  After which mixed figure, he poured himself something to drink, and his hands were shaking.

Dal and Anne stood on each side of him and patted him on the shoulders and glared across at me.  I felt that if I was a rock, Jim’s ship had struck on me and was sinking, as he said, because of me.  I began to crumble.

“What—­what time does she leave?” I asked, wavering.

“Ten:  nine; Kit, are you going to do it?”

“No!” I gave a last clutch at my resolution.  “People who do that kind of thing always get into trouble.  She might miss her train.  She’s almost certain to miss her train.”

“You’re temporizing,” Dallas said sternly.  “We won’t let her miss her train; you can be sure of that.”

“Jim,” Anne broke in suddenly, “hasn’t she a picture of Bella?  There’s not the faintest resemblance between Bella and Kit.”

Jim became downcast again.  “I sent her a miniature of Bella a couple of years ago,” he said despondently.  “Did it myself.”

But Dal said he remembered the miniature, and it looked more like me than Bella, anyhow.  So we were just where we started.  And down inside of me I had a premonition that I was going to do just what they wanted me to do, and get into all sorts of trouble, and not be thanked for it after all.  Which was entirely correct.  And then Leila Mercer came and banged at the door and said that dinner had been announced ages ago and that everybody was famishing.  With the hurry and stress, and poor Jim’s distracted face, I weakened.