lease, Mary," said little Sammy, with
dignity.

There was a silence. Tom lighted a cigarette. They watched the game,
Mary fighting tears, Sammy defiant and breathing hard, Mrs. Bond with
absent eyes.

"Stunning fellow who made that run!" said the elder woman presently.
"Who is he, dear?"

"That's Anthony!" said Sammy, shortly, not to be won.

"Anthony!" Mrs. Bond's tone was all affectionate interest. She put up
her lorgnette. "Well, bless his heart! Isn't he good to look at!" she
said.

"He's all hot and dirty now," Sammy said, relenting a little.

"He's MAGNIFICENT," said Mrs. Bond, firmly. She cut Mary off from their
conversation with a broad shoulder, and pressed Sammy's hand. "We'll
all love him, I'm sure," said she, warmly.

Sammy's lip trembled.

"You WILL, Aunt Anne," said she, a little huskily. Pent up confidence
came with a rush. "I know perfectly well how Mary feels!" said Sammy,
eagerly. "Why, didn't you yourself feel a little sorry he's a
carpenter?"

"Just for a moment," said Aunt Anne.

"I wish MYSELF he wasn't," Sammy pursued; "but he likes it, and he's
making money, and he's liked by EVERY one. He's on the team, you know,
and sings in all the concerts. Wild horses couldn't drag him away from
Wheatfield. And why should he go away and study some profession he
hates," she rushed on resentfully, "when I'm PERFECTLY satisfied with
him as he is? Father asked him if he wouldn't like to study a
profession--I don't see why he SHOULD!"

"Surely," said Mrs. Bond, sympathetically, but quite at a loss. After a
thoughtful moment she added seriously: "But, darling, what about your
trousseau? Why not make it November, say, and take a flying trip to New
York with your old aunty? I want the first bride to have all sorts of
pretty things, you know. No delays,--everything ready-made, not a
moment lost--?"

Sammy hesitated. "You do like him, don't you, Aunt Anne?" she burst out.

"My dear, I HOPE I'm going to love him!"

"Do--do you mind my talking it over with him before I say I'll go?"
Sammy's eyes shone.

"My darling, no! Take a week to think it over!" Mrs. Bond had never
tried fishing, but she had some of the instincts of the complete angler.

A mad burst of applause interrupted her, and ended the game. Strolling
from the field in the level, pitiless sunshine, the Peneyres were
joined by young Gayley. He was quite the hero of the hour, stalwart in
his base-ball suit, nodding and shouting greetings i