uivered with softness and
gentleness, and the next it stiffened, or twitched with the inimical,
disapproving look it had for Louie and Emmeline and Edith.

The children lifted up their pure, impassive faces to be kissed at. Old
Nanna brought Baby John and put him on his grandmother's knee. Dorothy
and Nicholas went off with Mary-Nanna to the party. Michael forgot all
about playing with himself. He stayed where he was, drawn by the
spectacle of Grannie and the Aunties. Grannie was clucking and chuckling
to Baby John as she had clucked and chuckled to her own babies long ago.
Her under lip made itself wide and full; it worked with an in and out
movement very funny and interesting to Michael. The movement meant that
Grannie chuckled under protest of memories that were sacred to
Grandpapa.

"Tchoo--tchoo--tchoo--tchoo! Chuckaboo! Beautiful boy!" said Grannie.

Auntie Louie looked at her youngest nephew. She smiled her downward,
sagging smile, wrung from a virginity sadder than Grannie's grief. She
spoke to Baby John.

"You really are rather a nice boy," Auntie Louie said.

But Edie, the youngest Auntie, was kneeling on the grass before him,
bringing her face close to his. Baby John's new and flawless face was
cruel to Auntie Edie's. So was his look of dignity and wisdom.

"Oh, she says you're only rather nice," said Auntie Edie. "And you're
the beautifullest, sweetest, darlingest that ever was. Wasn't she a
nasty Auntie Louie? Ten little pink toes. And _there_ he goes. Five
little tootsies to each of his footsies."

She hid herself behind the _Times_ disturbing Jane.

"Where's John-John?" she cried. "Where's he gone to? Can anybody tell me
where to find John-John? Where's John-John? Peep-_bo_--there he is!
John-John, look at Auntie Edie. Oh, he won't pay any attention to
poor me."

Baby John was playing earnestly with Grannie's watch-chain.

"You might leave the child alone," said Grannie. "Can't you see he
doesn't want you?"

Auntie Edie made a little pouting face, like a scolded, pathetic child.
Nobody ever did want Auntie Edie.

And all the time Auntie Emmy was talking to Frances very loud and fast.

"Frances, I do think your garden's too beautiful for words. How clever
of you to think of clearing away the old flower-beds. I hate flower-beds
on a lawn. Yet I don't suppose I should have had the strength of mind to
get rid of them if it bad been me."

As she talked Auntie Emmy opened her eyes very wide; he