"Oh I'm sure he will." Said Mother while I maintained an em- barrassed silence. Then we went up to bed. As I undressed I lin- gered between each article of clothing, and when I went to bed, by choice, I wore one of Aunt's gowns.

When I rose the next morning I longed to put on my new finery,, but realizing that it would be a dead giveaway I put on my own clothes while regretting that our bargain hadn't been for a month instead of a week. Indeed my clothes felt strange, particularly the trousers, and my skin, accustomed to silk rebelled at their roughness. However, this sensation passed and I began to feel nat- ural by the time I got to the breakfast table. There, neither Mother or Aunt made any comment about my appearance.

For the first few days after Aunt's departure everything went smoothly except that every time I noticed the velvet suit hanging in my closet, or the drawer full of lingerie, I felt a tingle pass up my spine. It wasn't that I wished to wear them so much, for after the first day that feeling had largely passed, rather it was pride of ownership. Queerly, the fact that they were mine was pleas- ing out of all proportion. On several occasions Mother urged me to : wear them but I always refused--I was afraid of their ridicule. However, one afternoon when Mother and Sue were out, and I was wandering about the house, I noticed the velvet suit. No sooner

had I seen it than I had an intense desire to put it on, and the thought that I could do so undetected was too much to resist. So before many minutes had passed I was undressed and stepping into the chemise. In time I was dressed, had arranged the wig which Aunt had given me with the clothes, and was downstairs admiring myself in the mirror. It was then that I realized that my pride of ownership had really been a subconscious desire to wear the clothes--for a most satisfied feeling pervaded my very soul.

The rest of the afternoon was delightful--I really didn't do a thing, but the mere fact that I was dressed as a woman made me happy beyond measure. I finally changed back to my own clothing just before Mother came in, and in response to her inquiries, told her that I had spent the afternoon reading. That evening I was miserable. I missed my dresses so much that I could hardly stand it, and several times Mother asked me why I was so restless.

Finally she said, "Davy! What in the world is the matter with you? You've been getting grouchier and more nervous every day late- ly--you're not at all like you were last week." I replied that it

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