rushing in, with
awful visions of scalded hands, sudden news of affliction, and secret
consternation at the thought of the guest in the garden.

"Oh, John, I am so tired and hot and cross and worried! I've been at
it till I'm all worn out. Do come and help me or I shall die!" and the
exhausted housewife cast herself upon his breast, giving him a sweet
welcome in every sense of the word, for her pinafore had been baptized
at the same time as the floor.

"What worries you dear? Has anything dreadful happened?" asked the
anxious John, tenderly kissing the crown of the little cap, which was
all askew.

"Yes," sobbed Meg despairingly.

"Tell me quick, then. Don't cry. I can bear anything better than
that. Out with it, love."

"The... The jelly won't jell and I don't know what to do!"

John Brooke laughed then as he never dared to laugh afterward, and the
derisive Scott smiled involuntarily as he heard the hearty peal, which
put the finishing stroke to poor Meg's woe.

"Is that all? Fling it out of the window, and don't bother any more
about it. I'll buy you quarts if you want it, but for heaven's sake
don't have hysterics, for I've brought Jack Scott home to dinner,
and..."

John got no further, for Meg cast him off, and clasped her hands with a
tragic gesture as she fell into a chair, exclaiming in a tone of
mingled indignation, reproach, and dismay...

"A man to dinner, and everything in a mess! John Brooke, how could you
do such a thing?"

"Hush, he's in the garden! I forgot the confounded jelly, but it can't
be helped now," said John, surveying the prospect with an anxious eye.

"You ought to have sent word, or told me this morning, and you ought to
have remembered how busy I was," continued Meg petulantly, for even
turtledoves will peck when ruffled.

"I didn't know it this morning, and there was no time to send word, for
I met him on the way out. I never thought of asking leave, when you
have always told me to do as I liked. I never tried it before, and
hang me if I ever do again!" added John, with an aggrieved air.

"I should hope not! Take him away at once. I can't see him, and there
isn't any dinner."

"Well, I like that! Where's the beef and vegetables I sent home, and
the pudding you promised?" cried John, rushing to the larder.

"I hadn't time to cook anything. I meant to dine at Mother's. I'm
sorry, but I was so busy," and Meg's tears began again.

John was a mild man, but he