Contrary Mary

Mrs. Clendenning, helpless before this burst of eloquence on the part

of her usually restrained daughter, asked, tartly, "How in the world do

you know what Porter wants or Mary needs?"

"Perhaps," said Grace, slowly, "it is because I am a little like Mary.

But I am older, and I've learned to take what the world gives. Not

what I want. But Mary will never be content with compromise, and she

will always go through life with her head up."

Mary's head was up at that very moment, as with cheeks flaming and eyes

bright, she played hostess to her guests, while in the back of her

brain were beating questions about Roger Poole.

Freed from the somewhat hampering presence of Mrs. Clendenning, Delilah

was letting herself go, and she drew even from grave Gordon Richardson

the tribute of laughter.

"It was an artist that I met at Marblehead," she said, "who showed me

the way. He told me that I was a blot against the sea and the sky,

with my purples and greens and reds and yellows. I will show you his

sketches of me as I ought to be. They opened my eyes; and I'll show

you my artist too. He's coming down to see whether I have caught the

idea."

And now she moved down the steps. "Father will be furious if I keep

him waiting any longer. He's crazy over the car, and when he drives,

it is a regular Tam O'Shanter performance. I won't ask any of you to

risk your necks with him yet, but if you and the General are willing to

try it, Leila, we will take you home."

"I haven't fought in fifty battles to show the white feather now," said

the General, and Leila chirruped, "I'd love it," and presently, with

Barry in devoted attendance, they drove off.

Mary, waiting on the porch for Porter to telephone for his own car,

which was to take them around the Speedway, looked eagerly toward the

fountain. The moon had gone under a cloud, and while she caught the

gleam of the water, the hundred-leaved bush hid the bench. Was Roger

Poole there? Alone?

She heard Porter's voice behind her. "Mary," he said, "I've brought a

heavy wrap. And the car will be here in a minute."

Aunt Isabelle had given him the green wrap with the fur. She slipped

into it silently, and he turned the collar up about her neck.

"I'm not going to have you shivering as you did in that thin red

thing," he said.