"Chiefly because you do not like it, my dear," was the retort. "If I
were not so sure of getting a rise out of you every time, perhaps I
might be tempted to stop."

"You children quarrel like a pair of apes," Mr. Galbraith said. "If I
did not know that underneath you were perfectly devoted to each other,
I should be worried to death about you."

"You needn't waste any worry on Cynthia Ann and me, Dad," Roger
declared. "Bad as she is, she's the best sister I've got, and I rather
like her in spite of her faults."

A smile passed between the two.

"You've some faults of your own, remember," observed the girl, with a
grimace.

"Not a one, mademoiselle, not a one! I swear it," was the instant
retort. "Coming into the family first, I picked the cream of the Lee
and Galbraith qualities and gave you what was left."

"I command you two to stop your bickering," Mr. Galbraith said at last.
"You are wasting the whole luncheon, squabbling. You'd much better be
deciding what you are going to do with Bob for the rest of the day."

"I thought I'd take him out in the knockabout," Roger suggested. "That
is, if he would like to go. The tide will be just right and there is a
fine breeze."

"You may take him if you will get him home at tea time," Mrs. Galbraith
said. "Your grandmother has set her heart on seeing him this afternoon
and you know she retires soon after dinner."

"You wouldn't have any time to sail at all, Roger," put in Cynthia.
"Especially if you should get stuck on a bar as you did the other day."

"We should have two hours."

"Why don't you take the launch, Roger?" his mother inquired.

"And get snagged in the eel grass--not on your life!"

"Bob and Mr. Spence are going to do away with all that eel grass, you
know," called his father, sauntering out of doors.

"I'll wait until they do, then," was the grim retort.

"I should think Bob would a great deal rather go for a motor-ride,"
Cynthia ventured, her eyes fixed impersonally on the landscape.

"I suppose you'd like to cart him off in your car."

"It doesn't make any difference whose car he goes in, does it?"

"Well, ra--_ther_! If he goes in yours there's no room for me; if he
goes in mine there is no room for you. That's the difference."

"Children, do stop tearing Bob to fragments," lisped Mrs. Galbraith
with some amusement. "If you keep on pulling him to pieces he won't go
anywhere. Now Roger, you take Bob sailing and have a good vis