ke you; besides, you know you wouldn't
miss Sophy's waffles." Belle departed with the kitten, leaving Jack to
return to the latest Henty book and his retreat under the table.

The Partons' was a square house, with a wide hall dividing it through the
middle and opening on a porch at either end. When the weather at all
permitted, these doors stood wide open, and dogs and cats and children ran
in and out as they pleased. In the afternoons Colonel Parton sat on the
front porch smoking and reading, threatening the dogs and the children
indiscriminately, receiving not the slightest attention from either.

As she passed him now, Belle mischievously deposited the kitten on his
shoulder.

"You baggage, you! Take this thing off me," thundered the colonel, as the
kitten made its claws felt in a frantic endeavor to hold on in its
perilous position.

"O father! don't hurt her," Belle cried, running to the rescue, and in the
scuffle that followed, the unfortunate kitten escaped.

"Don't you let me catch you doing a thing like that again," scolded the
colonel, as he picked up his paper and settled himself in his chair again.

Belle laughed, and held up her face for a kiss, which her father gave with
a hearty good will.

Mrs. Parton was not the only one who felt dress to be a matter of
importance on this occasion. Charlotte Ellis stopped at the bank gate to
ask Katherine what she was going to wear.

"My blue lawn, I think," Katherine answered. "Mother says it is nice
enough, and that I must keep my new white dress for Commencement."

"Your blue dress is very pretty, I am sure," Charlotte said. She was two
years older than Katherine, and her manner was mildly patronizing. "I
think I shall wear white. Of course it is not a party, but we want to
make a good impression on a stranger."

Katherine felt the force of this, but Maurice, who overheard Charlotte,
was inclined to jeer. "Much difference it will make to her what you have
on," he said, as Charlotte left them. "Her," meant Rosalind.

"How do you know it won't make any difference?" asked Katherine.

"Because she is not that kind."

"What kind? How do you know?"

Now Maurice had kept his interview with Rosalind to himself, saying
nothing to any one when he returned her book. His sudden interest in
Shakespeare had not passed unnoticed; but as this or something else had
caused longer intervals of cheerfulness, the family had not ventured to
disturb the agreeable change by