out this one? It
is like a life of Napoleon with all the battles left out. They are
conceited enough to put his age in the upper corner of each page too, as
if anybody cared how old he was."

"Such pretty covers!" said Kate. "It is too bad."

"Yes," said Aunt Jane. "I mean to send them back and have new leaves
put in. These are so wretched, there is not a teakettle in the land so
insignificant that it would boil over them. Don't let us talk any more
about it. Have Philip and Hope gone out upon the water?"

"Yes, dear," said Kate. "Did Ruth tell you?"

"When did that aimless infant ever tell anything?"

"Then how did you know it?"

"If I waited for knowledge till that sweet-tempered parrot chose to tell
me," Aunt Jane went on, "I should be even more foolish than I am."

"Then how did you know?"

"Of course I heard the boat hauled down, and of course I knew that none
but lovers would go out just before a thunder-storm. Then you and Harry
came in, and I knew it was the others."

"Aunt Jane," said Kate, "you divine everything: what a brain you have!"

"Brain! it is nothing but a collection of shreds, like a little girl's
work-basket,--a scrap of blue silk and a bit of white muslin."

"Now she is fishing for compliments," said Kate, "and she shall have
one. She was very sweet and good to Philip last night."

"I know it," said Aunt Jane, with a groan. "I waked in the night and
thought about it. I was awake a great deal last night. I have heard
cocks crowing all my life, but I never knew what that creature could
accomplish before. So I lay and thought how good and forgiving I was; it
was quite distressing."

"Remorse?" said Kate.

"Yes, indeed. I hate to be a saint all the time. There ought to be
vacations. Instead of suffering from a bad conscience, I suffer from a
good one."

"It was no merit of yours, aunt," put in Harry. "Who was ever more
agreeable and lovable than Malbone last night?"

"Lovable!" burst out Aunt Jane, who never could be managed or
manipulated by anybody but Kate, and who often rebelled against Harry's
blunt assertions. "Of course he is lovable, and that is why I dislike
him. His father was so before him. That is the worst of it. I never in
my life saw any harm done by a villain; I wish I could. All the mischief
in this world is done by lovable people. Thank Heaven, nobody ever dared
to call me lovable!"

"I should like to see any one dare call you anything else,--you dear,
old, soft-