."

Aunt Emma rose and said, masterfully, "Come, little son, now you've
seen Mr. Ericson it's up to beddie again, up--to--beddie."

"No, no; please no, mamma! I've never seen a' aviator before, not in
all my life, and you promised me 'cross your heart, at Pasadena you
did, I could see one."

Arthur's face showed signs of imminent badness.

"Well, you may stay for a while, then," said Aunt Emma, weakly,
unconscious that her sway had departed from her, while the rest of the
table grinned, except Carl, who was absorbed in Arthur's ecstasy.

"I'm going to be a' aviator, too; I think a' aviator is braver than
anybody. I'd rather be a' aviator than a general or a policeman or
anybody. I got a picture of you in my scrap-book--you got a funny hat
like Cousin Bobby wears when he plays football in it. Shall I get you
the picture in my scrap-book?... Honest, will you give me another?"

Aunt Emma made one more attempt to coax Arthur up to bed, but his
Majesty refused, and she compromised by scolding his nurse and sending
up for his dressing-gown, a small, blue dressing-gown on which yellow
ducks and white bunny-rabbits paraded proudly.

"Like our blue bowl!" Carl remarked to Ruth.

Not till after coffee in the drawing-room would Arthur consent to go
to bed. This real head of the Emma Winslow family was far too much
absorbed in making Carl tell of his long races, and "Why does a
flying-machine fly? What's a wind pressure? Why does the wind shove
up? Why is the wings curved? Why does it want to catch the wind?" The
others listened, including even Aunt Emma.

Carl went home early. Ruth had the opportunity to confide:

"Hawk dear, I can't tell you how ashamed I am of my family for
enduring anybody so rude and opinionated as Aunt Emma. But--it's all
right, now, isn't it?... No, no, don't kiss me, but--dear dreams,
Hawk."

Phil's voice, from behind, shouted: "Oh, Ericson! Just a second."

Carl was not at all pleased. He remembered that Phil had listened with
obvious amusement to his agonized attempt to turn Aunt Emma's attacks.

Said Phil, while Ruth disappeared: "Which way you going? Walk to the
subway with you. You win, old man. I admire your nerve for facing Aunt
Emma. What I wanted to say----I hope to thunder you don't think I was
in any way responsible for Mrs. Winslow's linking me and Ruth that way
and----Oh, you understand. I admire you like the devil for knowing
what you want and going after it. I suppose you'll ha