tradict herself or become confused, never to falter, never to lose faith or courage. To-morrow, to be sure, will be a day for selecting the jury and no one will go upon the witness stand; but already, upon to-morrow morning, her appearance in court becomes of vital concern. Therefore it is essential for her to sleep.
Joan Daisy tried to obey her orders, and she began preparations for bed at the unheard—of hour of nine. It was a night upon which mamma's back was unusually bad, as it was likely to be at a time of trouble; so Joan Daisy rubbed mamma's body for half an hour and, when mamma was better, massaged mamma's face and, with endless patience and meticulous exactness pasted about mamma's eyes and mouth fourteen tiny strips of plaster optimistically applied to banish wrinkles and crows'-feet of ten years standing.
"I suppose now," complained mamma, "you want me to go to sleep. Give me that glass." And thus making the affair a favor to Daisy, she dosed herself, sighed and turned over. "All right; run along, Daisy; never mind me."
Joan Daisy closed mamma's door with hands atremble from muscular exhaustion of the prolonged massage, and her whole body became aquiver, now that she was alone, as she felt the awful imminence of the trial. Plucking at the snaps over her shoulders, she dropped off her dress for relief of its weight before bending to pull out the couch to make it her bed.
Vaguely she heard the usual drum of music, which resounded constantly through the floors at this hour when loud-speakers were operating and mechanical pianos played; and when suddenly a nearer beat assailed her, absurdly she imagined Ket in the empty room below. She denied the accent of the music, thinking, "Ket never would play like that," before she logically considered that
