think that.
There was another thing that had greatly troubled Astra, and that had been the constant differences of opinion between herself and her young cousin Clytie, which also brought on differences of opinion between herself and Miriam.
Clytie Lester was three years younger than Astra, but old for her years and badly spoiled. Whatever she had wanted all her life had been given her by her parents if they could possibly manage it, and she had wanted a great many things. When it was not possible for her parents to get what she wanted, Clytie had ways of getting things for herself, and one of those ways of late had been to borrow money of Astra.
As time went on, a good many of things Clytie wanted were not things that Astra considered right, and therefore Astra's problem about lending money to her young cousin had been growing more and more complicated, and her conscience was more and more harassed about what she ought to do. She did not wish to inform upon Clytie. It was not her idea of good ethics. But Clytie was constantly putting her into situations where it was either necessary to do so, or else to actually lie about things when she was questioned.
Cousin Miriam was not gentle, unworldly, and conscientious, as Astra remembered her own mother to have been. She was pretty and flighty, and rather inclined to be worldly and have easy standards of living. But she was very strict with regard to certain forms and ceremonies, and her ideas of what Clytie should or should not do were not at all Clytie's ideas. It followed, therefore, that Clytie did many things in direct disobedience to her mother's commands and got away with it in the main, often from behind the screen of an unwilling Astra.
"Now Clytie," her mother would say, "I want you to go straight to the library and get those books you say you have to have for your schoolwork and come right home! I don't want you lingering to talk with anyone or to take a walk or anything. I want you at home inside of an hour to try on the dresses that the dressmaker has been altering. Astra, you walk down with her and see that she gets back on time. Just remind her, won't you?"
Clytie would frown behind her mother's back and make a mouth of annoyance at Astra, but Miriam would see that Astra went.
Always Clytie had her plans, as Astra had known she would have, and instead of going to the library herself to pick out her books, she would send Astra in, telling her she simply couldn't stay in the house, she had such a bad headache and needed a bit of air.
"I'll meet you right here on the step, Astra," she would say, and settle down serenely on the bench beside the door. So Astra would go. For Clytie was well versed in ways to make her suffer for it if she didn't. Clytie knew how to create a scene at the dinner table afterward and show how unaccommodating her cousin had been, when she had "such a blazing headache," and Astra would be left to bear the disapproval of both mother and father while poor Clytie would be pitied and petted. So Astra often did things which her conscience did not approve. It seemed the only way.
And when she would come out from the library with her arms full of books Clytie had ordered, there would be no Clytie sitting on the bench; neither was she to be seen either up or down the street.
Astra would settle down at last, knowing full well that all this had been planned for her undoing. She knew that Miriam would blame her if Clytie was not back at the proper time. Nearly two years' experience had taught her this only too well. It was a little thing perhaps, but she would be filled with vexation as she watched anxiously, meantime glancing at her watch. An hour would have gone by since she left Clytie on the bench and Astra would start to wonder. Was it conceivable that Clytie had grown weary of waiting and gone back home without her? Should she dare go to the telephone and call the house to see? But if Clytie was not yet home, what kind of a storm would that raise? She could well conceive the light in which she herself would be placed.
So she would worry along for another fifteen minutes, and then just as she rose with her armful of books to go and telephone, she would sight Clytie's coronet of pink roses which she called a hat, tilted over her right eye, as she sauntered leisurely down the street surrounded by three young men! That was just about what she had always to expect of Clytie. It had happened too many times. And there was nothing for Astra to do but turn and follow the hilarious young gang down the street like a humble minion till they reached the corner where Clytie always parted with what her mother considered "undesirable escorts," and hastened on home.
"Clytie, where in the world have you been?" her mother would ask. "It is two hours since you left the house, and I told you to come right back! What on earth have you been doing all this time?"
"Why, Mother dear, I hurried just as fast as I possibly could," Clytie would respond. "Didn't I, Astra? You know, Mother, it takes the longest time to get waited on in that library. I simply implored that woman to wait on me at once, but she said she couldn't show preference, and there was a long, long line of people waiting for books. Schoolchildren, you know, and all that."
And then her mother would say, "Clytie! That's perfect nonsense! What were you doing? Who were you talking to in the library?"
"Not a soul, Mother dear," Clytie would chirp blithely. "Was I, Astra?"
Cousin Miriam's quick glance would give a passing search to Astra's face as she turned away to lay the books down on the table and then look back at Clytie.
"Now look here, Clytie, you must have been doing something more than just getting books! With whom did you walk up the street and talk?"
"Not a soul, Mother. I didn't meet anyone I knew at all this afternoon. Did I, Astra?"
But for once, this last time it had happened, Astra had escaped up to her room before an inquisition, though she still had a faint fear that it all might be brought up again later, in a full family conclave, and she be made to tell all she knew of the afternoon. The trouble was that Astra had been taught not to lie, even when she was in an unpleasant situation, and they all knew it. They knew that when she admitted a thing it was so, and there was no disputing it. But they also had their ways of punishing her for it if the truth put the adored Clytie in an unpleasant light in her parents' eyes. For often, when Astra had been forced to tell the truth about some ill-advised action of Clytie's, it was Astra who was treated as if she were the offender, and Clytie got off scot-free.
So the days had been going by, each one a problem in itself, and Astra had been growing heartsick and sad.
Moreover Clytie's borrowing habit had increased lately, until it had come about that there was scarcely enough in Astra's allowance check after board was paid and Clytie had dipped into it to cover Astra's actual needs in the way of clothing, stationery, and so forth.
Astra had worried a lot about this, for she felt guilty letting it go on without the knowledge of Clytie's parents, and yet if she told them there would be a terrible row, and she would inevitably be accused of being stingy. So clever was Clytie that she knew just how to work it this way without having the situation reflect in the least upon herself. Astra had prayed about it and come to the conclusion that she must not let this go on, no matter what might happen to herself.
And so, when it was arranged that the Lesters were to go to California to visit Duke's mother and father and to attend a cousin's wedding—a cousin who was not related to Astra—and she was to be left at home, she decided the time had come for her to think this thing through by herself and work it out somehow so that life would be livable and she need not feel continually condemned.
Then the very day before the Lesters started, Astra's check arrived. Astra cashed it at once, because she wished to pay her board before they left. After that was done, she put the remainder in a safe place, a new place, where she had not kept money before. A little carved wooden box with a spring lock. She put the box carefully away among her least-used garments in her lower bureau drawer
