* * * * *

_August_.

Well, of all the topsy-turvy worlds, this is the topsy-turviest, I am
sure. What _do_ they want me to do, and which do they want me to be?
Oh, I wish I was just a plain Susie or Bessie, and not a cross-current
and a contradiction, with a father that wants me to be one thing and
a mother that wants me to be another! It was bad enough before, when
Father wanted me to be Mary, and Mother wanted me to be Marie. But
now--

Well, to begin at the beginning.

It's all over--the love story, I mean, and I know now why it's been so
hard for me to remember to be Mary and why everything is different,
and all.

_They don't want me to be Mary_.

_They want me to be Marie_.

And now I don't know what to think. If Mother's going to want me to
be Mary, and Father's going to want me to be Marie, how am I going to
know what anybody wants, ever? Besides, it was getting to be such a
beautiful love story--Father and Cousin Grace. And now--

But let me tell you what happened.

It was last night. We were on the piazza, Father, Cousin Grace, and