aph window to Tom; in fact, I took the pains to
notice that Harry's telegram was not sent, or was deferred to a more
convenient season. I invited him to run over to "The Happy Family" with
us, and we all fell into rank again on the sidewalk, the boy not without
embarrassment. Of this I made it my first duty to relieve him. We
chatted of the weather and the theatre and hotels. When we had walked
a short distance, we met Charles Edward dawdling along over to "The
Sphinx" (however reluctantly) to call upon his precious elder sister. So
we paired off naturally: Aunt Elizabeth and the doctor in front, Goward
and I behind them, and Tom and Charles Edward bringing up the rear.

My heart dropped when I saw what a family party air we had. I felt it
to my finger-tips, and I could see that the lad writhed under it.
His expression changed from misery to mutiny. I should not have been
surprised if he had made one plunge into the roaring current of Broadway
and sunk from sight forever. The thing that troubled me most was
the poor taste of it: as if the whole family had congregated in the
metropolis to capture that unhappy boy. For the first time I began to
feel some sympathy for him.

"Mr. Goward," I said, abruptly, in a voice too low even for Aunt
Elizabeth to hear, "nobody wishes to make you uncomfortable. We are not
here for any such purpose. I have something in my pocket to show you;
that is all. It will interest you, I am sure. As soon as we get to the
hotel, if you don't mind, I will tell you about it--or, in fact, will
give it to you. Count the rest out. They are not in the secret."

"I feel like a convict arrested by plainclothes men," complained Harry,
glancing before and behind.

"You won't," I said, "when you have talked to me five minutes."

"Sha'n't I?" he asked, dully. He said nothing more, and we pursued our
way to the hotel in silence. Elizabeth Talbert and Dr. Denbigh talked
enough to make up for us.

Aunt Elizabeth made herself so charming, so acutely charming, that I
heard the boy draw one quick, sharp breath. But his eyes followed her
more sullenly than tenderly, and when she clung to the doctor's arm upon
a muddy crossing the young man turned to me with a sad, whimsical smile.

"It doesn't seem to make much difference--does it, Mrs. Price? She
treats us all alike."

There is the prettiest little writing-room in "The Happy Family," all
blue and mahogany and quiet. This place was deserted, and thither I
be