r for the
simple reason that, arithmetically considered, each counts as one!)

"All right, I will," said Clover, in his languid drawl.

Aunt Mary saw his lips.

"It's no use my deceivin' you as to my bein' a little hard of hearin',"
she said to him, "because you can see my ear-trumpet; so I'll trouble you
to say that over again."

"All right, I will," Clover wailed, good-humoredly.

"What?" asked Aunt Mary. "I didn't--"

Jack cut her short by leading the party inside.

The scene within was as gorgeous with golden stucco as the dining-room of
a German liner. Aunt Mary was so overcome that she traversed half the room
before she became aware of the mighty attention which she and her three
escorts were attracting. In truth, it is not every day that three
good-looking young men take a tiny old lady, a bunch of violets and an
ear-trumpet out to dine at ten o'clock.

"Everyone's lookin'," she said to Jack.

"It's your back, Aunt Mary," he replied, in a voice that shook some loose
golden flakes from the ceiling. "I tell you, not many women of your age
have a back like yours, and don't you forget it."

The compliment pleased Aunt Mary, because she had all her life been
considered round-shouldered. It also pleased her because she never had
received many compliments. The Aunt Marys of this world love flattery just
as dearly as the Mrs. Rosscotts; the sad part of life is that they rarely
get any. The women like Mrs. Rosscott know why the Aunt Marys go
unflattered, but the Aunt Marys never understand. It's all sad--and
true--and undeniable.

They went to a table, and were barely seated when another man came up.

"Hello, Jack!"

"Hello, Mitchell!"

It was he of Scotch ancestry. Jack sprang up and greeted him with warmth,
then he turned to Aunt Mary.

"Aunt Mary," he screamed, "this is my friend"--he paused, put on all steam
and ploughed right through--"Herbert Kendrick Mitchell."

"I didn't catch that at all," said Aunt Mary, calmly, "but I'm just as
glad to meet the gentleman."

Mitchell clasped her hand with an expression as burning as if it was real.

"I declare," he yelled straight at her, "if this isn't what I've been
dreaming towards ever since I first knew Jack."

Aunt Mary fairly shone.

"Dear me," she began, "if I'd known--"

"You'd better dine with us, Mitchell," said Jack; "that'll make five."

"It won't make but three for me," said Mitchell. "I haven't had but two
dinners before to-night."

C