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 never thought of hiding it. Of course, I didn’t feel like talking much to you about it because I knew you didn’t approve of the concert at all.”

When Emily spoke gravely Aunt Ruth always thought she was impudent.

“This crowns all, Em’ly. Sly as I’ve always known you to be I wouldn’t have believed you could be as sly as this.”

“There was nothing of the kind about it, Aunt Ruth!” said Emily impatiently. “It would have been silly of me to try to hide the fact that we were getting up a play when all Shrewsbury is talking of it. I don’t see how you could hearing of it.”

“You knew I wasn’t going anywhere because of my bronchitis. Oh, I see through it all, Em’ly. You cannot deceive .”

“I haven’t tried to deceive you. I thought you knew—that is all there is to it. I thought the reason you never spoke of it was because you were opposed to the whole thing. That is the truth, Aunt Ruth. What difference is there between a dialogue and a play?”

“There is difference,” said Aunt Ruth. “Plays are wicked.”

“But this is such a one,” pleaded Emily despairingly—and then laughed because it sounded so ridiculously like the nursemaid’s excuse in. Her sense of humour was untimely; her laughter infuriated Aunt Ruth.

“Little or big, you are not going to take part in it.”

Emily stared again, paling a little.

“Aunt Ruth—I —why, the play would be ruined.”

“Better a play ruined than a soul ruined,” retorted Aunt Ruth.

Emily dared not smile. The issue at stake was too serious.

“Don’t be so—so—indignant, Aunt Ruth”—she had nearly said unjust. “I am sorry you don’t approve of