Then opening it over her she thrust its handle under the pillow to hold it in place, and lay back under its sheltering canopy with a suppressed giggle.
[Illustration: "LAY BACK UNDER ITS SHELTERING CANOPY WITH A SUPPRESSED GIGGLE."] Again she looked up at Lloyd's picture, thinking, "I'd have been awfully mad if you hadn't been here to smile with me over it." The bulb began to sway, throwing shadows across the wall.

Ethelinda had struck the cord in reaching up to pull her pillows higher.

The flickering shadows made Mary think of something--a verse that Lloyd had written in her autograph album once, because it was the motto of the Seminary Shadow Club.
"This learned I from the shadow on a tree That to and fro did sway upon the wall, Our shadowy selves--our influence, may fall Where we can never be." She repeated it drowsily, peering out from under her umbrella at the swaying shadows, till something the lines suggested made her sit up, wide awake.
"Why, I can take _you_ for my chum, of course," she thought.

"Your _shadow-self_.

Then it won't make any difference whether Miss Haughtiness Hurst talks to me or not, _You'll_ understand and sympathize with me." All her life when Mary's world did not measure up to her expectations, she had been in the habit of making a world of her own; a beautiful make-believe place that held all her heart's desires.