Free The White Lady by Grace Livingston Hill

force that she was no longer a part of this world of fashion. So, in spite of Marion’s pleadings, in spite of dinners and parties and engagements without number, Constance decided to go home.
    When she had decided, it did not take her long to put her plans into operation. As suddenly as she had come, she departed, leaving Marion lonely and disappointed. She was wonderfully fascinated by Constance and had formed something more than an ordinary friendship for her. Moreover, she felt instinctively that there was something more to her than a mere society girl, and she longed to enter into the inner recesses of this choice spirit and share the fun, for fun Marion felt it would be. She was always looking out for fun. The beautiful part of it was that she generally made some fun out of everything she undertook, even though it was not planned for that purpose.
    Constance had grown fond of Marion also, and it was with regret that she bade her good-bye, in spite of her impatience to be again alone and perfect her plans for the future. She would have enjoyed telling all to this girl and was sometimes tempted to do so; then, looking about on the luxurious apartments, she would remember that Marion was part of the world she was leaving now, and not a soul of that world must know where she had gone or what had happened. For it might be that Marion, too, was influenced by wealth and station, unlikely as it seemed, and it would be better not to know it if Marion were likely to turn away from her when her money was gone.
    As she left the beautiful mansion where she had spent two delightful weeks, Constance gave one glance about the lovely rooms. It was to her a farewell to all the pleasant, costly things that seem to make life one long picnic. She was going into a world of work and thought and perplexity. She went willingly enough, but she could not help a regret or two for the things of the life she was leaving.
    Constance did some serious planning on the journey home. She could feel a great change in herself. The old life began to seem far away. Henceforth, her sphere would be a humble one.
    It was that same night after dinner that she began to set her plans in motion.
    Grandmother was always in a good humor just after dinner, and nothing pleased her more than a nice long talk with Constance. She wanted to know all about Chicago, and Constance told her of the magnificence and the kindness and the largeness of everything. The old lady listened and exclaimed, and approved of some things but thought that others showed far too much display to be in good taste, and finally Constance got around to the point toward which she had been aiming.
    “Grandmother,” she said in her most wheedling tone, “I want you to do something for me. I want it very much. Will you do it?”
    “Why, of course, Connie, what is it?” said her grandmother, pleased as love always is to be wanted. “I always do what you ask, my dear. Do I not?”
    “Of course you do, Grandmother, and I know you’re going to do this. Well, I’ll tell you about it. I want to close up this house and go traveling! Does that sound very dreadful?”
    “Why, no, child, not the traveling part. I suppose that could be arranged all right. There are plenty of people who would be glad to have you with them, and you could go as well as not. But why close up the house, child? I’ll stay right here as I always do. That’ll be the best way.”
    “No, Grandmother, that’s not what I mean. I want you to go along. I don’t want to be bundled off on anybody else. I want you and me to start out and have a good time together and go just where we please without anything to hinder. Wouldn’t you please go, Grandmother? We could go easily, so that you wouldn’t need to get tired, and I think you would enjoy it.”
    “Oh child! I, go traveling again at my time of life? I couldn’t,” said the grandmother, startled out of her usual calm decorum.
    It took an hour and a half of eager argument and