fter all.

Soon after that people began coming in streams. The band struck up; the
hired waiters ran from the house to the marquee. Wherever you looked
there were couples strolling, bending to the flowers, greeting, moving
on over the lawn. They were like bright birds that had alighted in the
Sheridans' garden for this one afternoon, on their way to--where? Ah,
what happiness it is to be with people who all are happy, to press
hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes.

"Darling Laura, how well you look!"

"What a becoming hat, child!"

"Laura, you look quite Spanish. I've never seen you look so striking."

And Laura, glowing, answered softly, "Have you had tea? Won't you have
an ice? The passion-fruit ices really are rather special." She ran to
her father and begged him. "Daddy darling, can't the band have something
to drink?"

And the perfect afternoon slowly ripened, slowly faded, slowly its
petals closed.

"Never a more delightful garden-party... " "The greatest success... "
"Quite the most... "

Laura helped her mother with the good-byes. They stood side by side in
the porch till it was all over.

"All over, all over, thank heaven," said Mrs. Sheridan. "Round up the
others, Laura. Let's go and have some fresh coffee. I'm exhausted. Yes,
it's been very successful. But oh, these parties, these parties! Why
will you children insist on giving parties!" And they all of them sat
down in the deserted marquee.

"Have a sandwich, daddy dear. I wrote the flag."

"Thanks." Mr. Sheridan took a bite and the sandwich was gone. He took
another. "I suppose you didn't hear of a beastly accident that happened
to-day?" he said.

"My dear," said Mrs. Sheridan, holding up her hand, "we did. It nearly
ruined the party. Laura insisted we should put it off."

"Oh, mother!" Laura didn't want to be teased about it.

"It was a horrible affair all the same," said Mr. Sheridan. "The chap
was married too. Lived just below in the lane, and leaves a wife and
half a dozen kiddies, so they say."

An awkward little silence fell. Mrs. Sheridan fidgeted with her cup.
Really, it was very tactless of father...

Suddenly she looked up. There on the table were all those sandwiches,
cakes, puffs, all uneaten, all going to be wasted. She had one of her
brilliant ideas.

"I know," she said. "Let's make up a basket. Let's send that poor
creature some of this perfectly good food. At any rate, it will be the
greatest treat for the children. Do