Ben?" asked Miss Mehitable anxiously. "I'd
like to know just when to expect you."

"You don't tr-r-ust me, that's what's the matter," he returned. "Will
you promise to muzzle Merry Sunshine?"

"I--I think perhaps Charlotte will go out to walk," returned Miss Upton,
somewhat troubled herself to know how to insure privacy in her
restricted domain. "She does, sometimes, Sundays."

"How does it affect the Keefe springtime to have her walk out in it?"
inquired Ben solicitously.

"I'll tell you, Ben," said his mother, sympathetic with the anxiety in
Miss Mehitable's face, "bring Miss Upton over to see our
apple-blossoms, and you can have your talk at our house."

Relief overspread Miss Upton's round countenance.

"Certainly. I'll call for you at three," said Ben, "Blackstone under my
arm. If Merry Sunshine attacks me it will be a trusty weapon. Hop into
the car, Mehit, and we'll run you home."

Mrs. Barry laughed. "The sermon doesn't seem to have done him any good
this morning, Miss Upton. We shall be glad to take you home."

CHAPTER IV

The Good Fairy

So again Mrs. Whipp saw her friend and employer descend from the Barry
car.

She didn't open the door for her this time, but sat, rocking, in the
shop with Pearl in her lap, and sniffed at her as she entered.

"You and your fine friends," she scoffed. "Pretty soon you won't demean
yourself to use the trolley at all."

"If you had only been willing to come to church, Charlotte, they'd have
brought you home, too," said Miss Mehitable, hoping she was telling the
truth.

"'The Sabbath was made for man,'" snapped Mrs. Whipp, "not man for the
Sabbath, to go and hear that man talk through his nose!"

"Now, Charlotte, I refused to go home to dinner with them just so's you
and I could have our meal together; so don't you make me sorry."

Mrs. Whipp had started up at once alertly on her friend's entrance,
spilling Pearl, and was already removing Miss Mehitable's jacket and hat
with deft fingers and receiving the silk gloves she pulled off.

"H'm, I don't believe they'll eat any better things than we're goin' to
have. How can I go to church and have us a good hot dinner?"

"Sunday dinner should be cold mainly," returned Miss Upton calmly. "Mine
always was till you came. Of course you're such a splendid cook,
Charlotte, it's kind of a temptation to you to spoil me and feed me up,
yet you know I ought not to eat much."

"Oh, pshaw," returned Mrs. Whipp. "Mo