ir dripped on their collars, he had brushed up for
dinner, but his negligee shirt and corduroy trousers were stained and
spotted from machine oil. Margaret, comparing him secretly to the men
she knew, as daintily groomed as women, in their spotless white, felt
a little resentment that Bruce's tired face was so contented, and said
to herself again that it was all wrong.

Dinner was the same old haphazard meal with which she was so familiar;
Blanche supplying an occasional reproof to the boys, Ted ignoring his
vegetables, and ready in an incredibly short time for a second cutlet,
and Robert begging for corn syrup, immediately after the soup, and
spilling it from his bread. Mrs. Paget was flushed, her disappearances
kitchenward frequent. She wanted Margaret to tell her all about Mr.
Tenison. Margaret laughed, and said there was nothing to tell.

"You might get a horse and buggy from Peterson's," suggested Mrs.
Paget, interestedly, "and drive about after dinner."

"Oh, Mother, I don't think I had better let him come!" Margaret said.
"There's so many of us, and such confusion, on Sunday! Ju and Harry
are almost sure to come over."

"Yes, I guess they will," Mrs. Paget said, with her sudden radiant
smile. "Ju is so dear in her little house, and Harry's so sweet with
her," she went on with vivacity. "Daddy and I had dinner with them
Tuesday. Bruce said Rebecca was lovely with the boys,--we're going
to Julie's again sometime. I declare it's so long since we've been
anywhere without the children that we both felt funny. It was a
lovely evening."

"You're too much tied, Mother," Margaret said affectionately.

"Not now!" her mother protested radiantly. "With all my babies turning
into men and women so fast. And I'll have you all together to-morrow--and
your friend I hope, too, Mark," she added hospitably. "You had
better let him come, dear. There's a big dinner, and I always freeze
more cream than we need, anyway, because Daddy likes a plate of it
about four o'clock, if there's any left."

"Well--but there's nothing to do," Margaret protested.

"No, but dinner takes quite a while," Mrs. Paget suggested a little
doubtfully; "and we could have a nice talk on the porch, and then you
could go driving or walking. I wish there was something cool and
pleasant to do, Mark," she finished a little wistfully. "You do just
as you think best about asking him to come."

"I think I'll wire him that another time would be better," said