quietly. "I didn't write. I decided suddenly. I've come to stay," she added.
"To stay? How long?" gasped the invalid.
"Oh, I don't know. Forever, perhaps. I'm through at the Alliance."
Abruptly Aunt Augusta crossed the room, approached Reba, and placed one hand on her arm, turning her toward the light.
"You been sick, Reba?" she asked.
Reba shook her head. "No, I haven't been sick."
"What does ail you then? What is the trouble?" Aunt Augusta grilled. "And where's your bag? Why are you through down there? That's what I want to know. Looks mighty queer to me."
"It does look queer, I guess," acknowledged Reba. "But I've had enough of it. That's all. You can squeeze me in somewhere in this big house, I guess. You'll have to, anyway, because I'm going to stay. I don't care about having my old room back," Reba assured Aunt Augusta. (Cousin Syringa had occupied Reba's room ever since she had left it empty.) "Nor, seeing I've come home to stay, I wouldn't think of sleeping in the spare-chamber either," she went on. "The 'girl's room' is all right for me."
"It ain't any such thing!" expostulated Cousin Syringa. "You'll have your bedroom back, of course, and I'll go into the 'girl's room.' I don't mind the cold."
"Oh, no, Cousin Syringa;I wouldn't let you do that," objected Reba. "I"
"Look here, you two," broke in Aunt Augusta crisply. "I'll settle that question myself later. You
