dled her out of doors under the trees. That's
one thing they've got at least: a whole yard full of grandfather elms. He
sort of looked at me cross-eyed while he was doing it to see if I caught
on, but I was blind as a post. By the way, I nearly forgot to mention it,
but you and I are invited there for dinner this coming Thursday--sort of
a house-warming and appreciation of my efforts combined."

"For dinner, so soon?" The girl stared incredulously. "I don't believe
Margery ever cooked a meal in her life."

"She isn't going to try to yet, she informed me, so be of good cheer.
That sort of thing is all to come later on, with the replaced furniture.
At present she's to have a maid and take observations." The speaker
laughed characteristically. "I asked her if she referred to the sort of
individual my mother used to call a hired girl, but she stuck to 'maid.'
It seems they are to pay her six dollars a week. Hired girls only command
four."

Elice Gleason joined in the laugh sympathetically. The other's good
spirits was irresistible.

"You seem to have been gathering valuable data," she commented drily.

"I have indeed. I couldn't well help it. I was even forced into the
conviction that it was intended I should so gather." He smiled into his
companion's eyes whimsically. "They're deep, those Randalls. After all is
said I fancy my assistance was acquired not so much from any desire to
save as to point a valuable object lesson; scatter the contagion, as it
were." He paused meaningly and smiled again. "Elice mine, we're in grave
danger, you and I. That worthy pair have designs upon our future. They
are in the position of a certain class, famed in adage, who desire
company. The dinner is only another illustration of the same point."

Elice Gleason returned the smile, but quietly. She made no further
comment, however, and the subject dropped.

In the hammock Armstrong swung back and forth in lazy well-being.
Overhead the mother wren, a mere brown shadow, flitted in return over
their heads. There was an instant's clamor from hidden fledglings, and
silence as the shadow passed back once more into the sunshine. Watching
through half-closed eyes, comfortably whimsical, Armstrong gazed into
space where the shadow had vanished.

"What a responsibility the care of a family must be," he commented,
"particularly in this hot weather. That wren certainly has my
sympathy--and respect." He paused to give the swinging hammock a fresh
i