met
you."

"But we mustn't stand here in the lane, Grandfather," put in Katrina,
hurriedly. "It's getting damp."

"That's so," agreed Mr. McBride, "and it's getting late." He hooked his
cane about the young man's arm. "Come in and have dinner with us," he
said.

Katrina stared in amazement at Mr. McBride. The young man looked eagerly
at Katrina. "If Miss Prentiss will allow me----" he began.

"Huh! Miss Prentiss," spoke up Mr. McBride. "What's she got to say about
it? I allow you." And as Katrina, behind Mr. McBride's back, smiled and
nodded, the young man accepted promptly.

Together the three went through the back garden and up to the house.
Arrived there, Katrina disappeared. Grandfather McBride, after settling
his guest, came straight upstairs and stopped at her door.

"Little cuss," beamed Mr. McBride, "goin' off, locking up her old
grandfather and meetin' young chaps. Say, Katriny," he remarked
casually, "he's a fine fellow, ain't he?"

Katrina, busy with her hair, nodded.

"Now, if I was a girl," continued Mr. McBride, diplomatically, "and a
fellow like that took a shine to me I'd show a glimmer of sense. I'd up
and return it."

"Would you?" remarked Katrina. "I'm glad you like him. You see,
Grandfather, you are too smart for me. I didn't know until just now that
you had even met Mr. Park."

Mr. McBride's smile stiffened, then froze, finally disappeared. He
opened his mouth, and shut it. He swallowed hard. At last, he got it
out. "Katriny--Katriny, is _that_ Sparks--that fellow downstairs? Is
that _Sparks_?"

"Hush," said Katrina. "Of course, that is Willoughby Park. Why,
Grandfather, didn't you ask his name?"

"No," said Mr. McBride, "I didn't. I just saw he was a fine, likely----"
He stopped abruptly. "Well, I'll be damned," said Mr. McBride.

Katrina came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Mr. McBride
looked into space. Standing so, he spoke once more. "Do you--do you
really like him, Triny?" he asked, and although he looked into space,
Mr. McBride saw Katrina's blush. He patted her hand once, and left her.

On his way downstairs, the grimness of Mr. McBride's face relaxed. In
the lower hall, he went so far as to chuckle. When he joined Mr. Park on
the porch, he grinned at him amiably.

"I'm a good sport," remarked Mr. McBride, irrelevantly, "but I know when
to retire to my corner and stay there. Say," continued Mr. McBride,
unconscious of discrepancies between thought and actio