Mrs. Conway came in one Thursday
afternoon to see Aunt Elizabeth and of course her own two little
daughters as well. Edna sat very close to her mother on the sofa, her
hand stroking the smooth kid glove she wore.

It was a queer thing to have her mother for company, but it was very
delightful, too.

"I hope you and Uncle Justus can come out to take Thanksgiving dinner
with us," said Mrs. Conway to her aunt.

"Thank you, my dear, but I am afraid it is impossible," was the
response. "I long ago promised to go to sister Julia's, and hoped
Justus would go, too, but he insists that he cannot possibly take the
time, for it is something of a trip. He says he has some school papers
he must attend to, and moreover, has promised to address a meeting in
the afternoon, so that it will be impossible."

"I am very sorry," returned Mrs. Conway, "for we had quite counted on
you both. Perhaps Uncle Justus can take the time to come to us even if
he cannot go so far as Aunt Julia's."

Mrs. Homer shook her head. "I am afraid not, but you can ask him. Julia
will be greatly disappointed, but you know Justus is nothing if not
conscientious and if he has made up his mind he ought not to go, nothing
will alter his decision."

"What time is his meeting?" asked Mrs. Conway.

"At half past two, I believe."

"Oh, dear, then I am afraid it will be difficult for him to get to us,
or rather to get away. We are to have dinner at two rather than in the
evening, partly on account of the children and partly on account of the
maids, to whom I have promised the time after they have finished the
necessary work. There is a train at two-forty-five, but that would be
too late, and it takes nearly an hour by the trolley cars."

"Then I am afraid he will have to dine alone," said Mrs. Horner, "I
don't suppose he has ever done such a thing in his life as that, but it
cannot be helped. Julia has few opportunities of seeing her family and
he insists that I must not think of disappointing her on his account."

Edna listened very soberly to all this, and when it was learned later
that nothing could alter Uncle Justus's decision, she felt very sorry
for him. She took occasion to open up the subject herself that
afternoon. "Uncle Justus," she asked, "did you ever eat Thanksgiving
dinner alone?"

Uncle Justus looked at her over his spectacles. "Well, no, I cannot say
that I ever did."

"Shall you like to do it?"

"No, I do not believe I shall particular