enomenon,' not a prodigy. However, it makes no material
difference what you and I call Mary Lathrop, the fact remains that she
is an exceptionally well-behaved, good-mannered, polite--"

"Sweet, healthy girl," interrupted Mrs. Wyeth, finishing the sentence.
"I know that as well as you do, Letitia Pease. And you know I know
it. Now, what have you in your mind concerning Mary? I know there is
something, because you have been hinting at it for more than a week.
What is it?"

Miss Pease looked wise.

"Oh, I have a plan," she said. "I can't tell even you, Emily, just what
it is as yet. You see, it isn't really a plan, but only an idea so far.
She doesn't know it herself, of course."

"Hum! Is it a pleasant plan--or idea, whichever you call it? That is,
will she think it pleasant when she learns what it is?"

"I certainly hope so."

"Look here, Letitia," with sudden suspicion, "you aren't planning some
ridiculous sentimental nonsense for that child, are you? You're not
trying to make a match for her, I hope?"

"Match? What are you talking about? If you mean am I trying to get her
married to some MAN," with a scornful emphasis on the word, "I most
certainly am not.

"Humph! Well, if she ever is married, I presume it will be to a man, or
an imitation of one. All right, Letitia. I am glad your great idea isn't
that, whatever it is."

"It is not. You know my opinion of marriage, Emily Wyeth. And, so far
as matchmaking is concerned, I should say you were a more likely subject
for suspicion. That young relative of yours, Sam Keith, appears to be
coming here a great deal of late. He MAY come solely to see you, but I
doubt it."

Mrs. Wyeth smiled grimly.

"Samuel has been rather prevalent recently," she admitted, "but don't
let that trouble you, Letitia. I have had my eye on the young man.
Samuel is as susceptible to pretty girls as children are to the measles.
And his attacks remind me of the measles as much as anything, sudden
outbreak, high fever and delirium, then a general cooling off and a
rapid recovery. This seizure isn't alarming and there is absolutely no
danger of contagion. Mary doesn't take him seriously at all."

"And how about that other young man?--Smith, I think his name is. He has
called here twice since Christmas."

Mrs. Wyeth seemed to be losing patience.

"Well, what of it?" she demanded.

"Why, nothing that I know of, except, perhaps--"

"There is no perhaps at all. The Smith boy appears to