on me and have been to
market. What a pity I confessed to you that I couldn't tell brains from
sweetbreads."

"Let me get there, Eugie," said Dudley, as Miss Chris emerged with the
assistance of the driver. "Take my arm, Aunt Chris, and I'll hoist you
into the house before you know it."

"Well, I declare," remarked Miss Chris, carefully stepping forth. "I
don't know when I've had such a turn. These street car drivers have lost
all their manners. If we hadn't pulled up in time, I believe he would
have gone right into us. And to think that a few years ago we never got
ready to go to market until the car was at the door. Betty Taylor used
to call to the driver every morning to wait till she put on her
bonnet--and time and again I've seen him stop because she had forgotten
her list of groceries. Now, if you weren't standing right on the corner,
I actually believe they'd go by without you."

"That's progress, Aunt Chris," responded Dudley cheerfully.

Here the driver insisted upon lending a hand, and between them they
established Miss Chris before the fire in the sitting-room. "I wish
you'd make Giles go out and pick up that loose paper that's scattered on
the pavement," she said to Eugenia. "It looks so untidy. If I wasn't
rheumatic I'd do it myself."

Dudley and Eugenia seated themselves across from her. "Now where have
you been, Aunt Chris?" they demanded.

Miss Chris laughed softly as she took off her bonnet and gloves and gave
them to Eugenia; then she unfastened her cape and passed it over.

"You'll never find out that, my dears," she returned. "I'm not too old
to keep a secret. Why, I've gone and lost my bag. Didn't I carry that
bag with me, Eugenia?"

"Of course you did," said Eugenia. "Never mind, I'll make you another."
She went out to put away Miss Chris's wraps, and came back presently,
laughing.

"Have you found out her secret, Dudley?" she asked. "If she doesn't tell
you, it will die with her."

"I know better than to ask," returned Dudley good-humouredly. "That's
the reason I'm her favourite. I don't ask impertinent questions, do I,
Aunt Chris?"

"Bless you, no," responded Miss Chris serenely, as she stretched out her
feet in their cloth shoes.

"You're her favourite because you happen to be a man," protested
Eugenia. "She comes of a generation of man spoilers. I believe she
thinks I ought to bring you your slippers in the evening--now don't you,
Aunt Chris?"

"My dear mother always brought t