nture and comradeship again. Things couldn't be any worse than
they had been at noon, anyway. The experience had been thoroughly
disenchanting. What did a few hours, more or less, matter! Let him be
disgusted if he wanted to, she couldn't help it!

It was cooler now, the level late shadows were making even Weston
pretty. They went up a steep shady lane to the old graveyard, and
wandered, peacefully, contentedly, among the old graves. Margaret
gathered her thin gown from contact with the tangled, uncut grass;
they had to disturb a flock of nibbling sheep to cross to the
crumbling wall. Leaning on the uneven stones that formed it, they
looked down at the roofs of the village, half lost in tree-tops; and
listened to the barking of dogs, and the shrill voices of children.
The sun sank lower, lower. There was a feeling of dew in the air as
they went slowly home.

When, at seven o'clock, they opened the gate, they found on the
side porch only Rebecca, enchanting in something pink and dotted,
Mother, and Dad.

"Lucky we waited!" said Rebecca, rising, and signaling some wordless
message to Margaret that required dimples, widened eyes, compressed
lips, and an expression of utter secrecy. "Supper's all ready," she
added casually.

"Where are the others'" Margaret said, experiencing the most pleasant
sensation she had had in twenty-four hours.

"Ju and Harry went home, Rob's at George's, boys walking," said
Rebecca, briefly, still dimpling mysteriously with additional
information. She gave Margaret an eloquent side glance as she led the
way into the dining-room. At the doorway Margaret stopped, astounded.

The room was hardly recognizable now. It was cool and delightful,
with the diminished table daintily set for five, The old silver
candlesticks and silver teapot presided over blue bowls of berries,
and the choicest of Mother's preserved fruits. Some one had found
time to put fresh parsley about the Canton platter of cold meats,
some one had made a special trip to Mrs. O'Brien's for the cream
that filled the Wedgwood pitcher. Margaret felt tears press suddenly
against her eyes.

"Oh, Beck!" she could only stammer, when the sisters went into the
kitchen for hot water and tea biscuit.

"Mother did it," said Rebecca, returning her hug with fervor. "She
gave us all an awful talking to, after you left! She said here was
dear old Mark, who always worked herself to death for us, trying to
make a nice impression, and to have t