gave Burnett an extra squeeze of
good-fellowship, as she said:

"You had a narrow escape, young man."

"I didn't have any escape at all," said Burnett. "The escape went down at
the back, and I had to jump from a cornice."

"Burnett is going out to dine with us, Aunt Mary," said Jack. "There's so
little he can eat on account of his ribs that he's a good dinner guest for
me."

Jack's aunt felt vaguely uncomfortable over this allusion to her
grand-nephew's circumstances, and coughed in slight embarrassment.

Burnett opened the door, and the carriage lamp shone below. (Is there ever
anything more delightfully suggestive than a carriage lamp shining down
below?) They took her down and put her in, and the carriage rolled away.

It was that June when "Bedelia" covered nearly the whole of the political
horizon; it was the date of June when West Point, Vassar, the Blue, the
Red, the Black and Yellow and every known device for getting rid of young
and growing-up America are all cast loose at once on our fair land. The
streets were a scene of glorious confusion, and but for Aunt Mary no
considerations could have kept Burnett's collarbone and Jack's melancholia
cooped up in a closed carriage. As it was, they were both fidgeting like
two youthful Uncle Sams in a European railway coupe, when the latter
suddenly exclaimed: "Here we are!" and threw open the door as he spoke.
Then he got out and Burnett got out and between them they got Aunt Mary
out.

Aunt Mary regarded the awning and carpet and general glitter with a more
or less appalled gaze.

"Looks like--" she began; and was interrupted by a voice at her side:

"Hello, Jack!"

"Hello, Clover!"

She turned and saw him of the pale mustache whom we once met in Mrs.
Rosscott's drawing room. He was in no wise altered since that occasion
except that his attire was slightly more resplendent and he had on a silk
hat.

Jack shook hands warmly and then he turned to his relative.

"Aunt Mary, this is my friend Clover; he's often heard me speak of you."

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Rover," said Aunt Mary, cordially, and she, too,
shook hands with that cordiality that flourishes beyond city limits.

Her nephew bent over her ear-trumpet.

"Clover!" he howled, with all the strength he owned.

"I heard before," said Aunt Mary, somewhat coldly.

"Come on and dine with us, Clover," said Jack; "that'll make four." (By
the way, isn't it odd how many people ask their friends to dinne