pain was coming on. It must not find her there. She rose from her chair.

“I am going home now. I only came for the dinner. It was very good, Aunt Alberta, although your salad-dressing is not salt enough and a dash of cayenne would improve it.”

None of the flabbergasted silver wedding guests could think of anything to say until the lawn gate clanged behind Valancy in the dusk. Then —

“She’s feverish — I’ve said right along she was feverish,” moaned Cousin Stickles.

Uncle Benjamin punished his pudgy left hand fiercely with his pudgy right.

“She’s dippy — I tell you she’s gone dippy,” he snorted angrily. “That’s