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thought of such a thing.
     
    "Why not? There's plenty of room. And you'll have my mom to talk to when I'm out in the fields, or you could pack us up a picnic and come down and meet me at noontime, and we could sit by the creek and eat, and you could do your sketching."
     
    "Like we did this summer." It had been a beautiful summer of blue skies and sunshine, and even the heat had not mattered, because the creek that ran along the edge of the fields at the south end of Dave's land had been clear and cold and the grassy banks had been dappled with shade from the willows.
     
    "And at night we'd have dinner together," Ann said dreamily. "In the winter we could eat by the fireplace and listen to the wind whistling around the comers of the house, and it wouldn't matter because we'd be inside together, and when the evening was over neither of us would have to drive home."
     
    "We'd be home," Dave said. "So, is it 'yes,' my gentle Annie?"
     
    It was his own pet name for her, and the tenderness with which he used it touched her deeply.
     
    "It's 'yes,'" Ann said, and at that moment, in some far corner of her mind, she heard the voice of Tammy Carncross raised in warning.
     
    Something is going to go awfully wrong this semester! it cried.
     
    With Dave's arms warm around her, Ann called back silently, For somebody else maybe, Tammy, but not for me!
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
    It was Friday, the sixth day of October.
     
    "I hate to say no to you, Ruthie, but I have to," Mrs. Grange said firmly. "I know you're disappointed and I'm sorry, but what you're asking is impossible at this particular time in our lives."
     
    "It's not impossible! Other girls get to do what they want to after school!" Ruth glared across the table at her mother. "Why do I have to be different from everybody else?"
     
    Immediately she wished she had not asked that. It was the question for which her parents always waited, and both of them had their mouths open with the answer before the last words had reached their ears. Miserably she glanced around the table for support, knowing as she did so that there would be none. Eric was shoveling food into his mouth as though he had not eaten for weeks, and Peter was off somewhere in outer space. Only Niles was paying attention to the conversation, and he was leaning back in his chair, grinning. Niles delighted in arguments.
     
    "Because your family—" both her parents began simultaneously.
     
    "I'm sorry," her mother said, and her father continued, "Because your family is not like 'everybody else's.' Four kids are a luxury these days, daughter, and don't you forget it. By today's standards, ours is a big family, and it takes two wage earners to keep it going."
     
    And whose fault is it we have this "luxurious family"? Ruthie wanted to yell at them. Nobody forced you to keep on having babies! With an effort that almost choked her she swallowed the accusation and struggled to bring her anger under control. From experience she knew that shouting would get her nowhere, and her only hope was to reach them with calm reason.
     
    "You don't understand how important this is," she said carefully. "It's not just any old club I've been asked to belong to, it's Daughters of Eve, a national organization. There are chapters all over the country, not just here in Modesta. Wherever I go for the rest of my life, I'll have sisters."
     
    "What are you looking for, Sis, quantity or quality?" Niles asked puckishly. "If that tub of lard you brought home from school with you this afternoon is an example of the 'daughters,' I'd say Mother Eve should have stopped with her original two sons."
     
    "Laura Snow is as nice a girl as you'll find anywhere," Ruth said defensively. "She can't help it if she's overweight. It runs in the family."
     
    "I bet that's the only thing that 'runs,'" Niles said. "Old Laura looks as though she can hardly waddle."
     
    "Oh, come off it, Niles," Peter said lightly, zeroing in on the conversation for the first