e et up his
nickel."

"Who--who has charge of him now?" Lucy blushed at her subterfuge.

"Mr. Bob," said Mrs. Wiggs; "he's the gentleman that took us to
supper. He's got money. Asia said he give the nigger waiter a
quarter. Billy is jes' crazy 'bout Mr. Bob; says he's goin' to be
jes' like him when he grows up. He will, too, if he sets his head to
it! Only he never kin have them big brown eyes an' white teeth Mr.
Bob's got. Why, when Mr. Bob smiles it jes' sort of breaks up his
whole face."

Lucy's eyes were fixed on the mammoth butterfly upon whose
iridescent wings Asia was putting the finishing touches, but her
thoughts were far away.

"I jes' wish you could see him!" went on Mrs. Wiggs,
enthusiastically.

"I wish I could!" said Lucy, with such fervor that Mrs. Wiggs paused
on her way to answer a knock at the outside door.

There was a scraping of feet in the passage.

"I have been driving all over the country looking for you," said a
man's voice. "I have some Christmas traps for the kids."

Lucy rose hastily, and turned just as Redding entered.

"Mr. Bob, this is Miss Lucy," announced Mrs. Wiggs, triumphantly;
"she was jes' 'lowin' she'd like to see you."

If a blue-eyed angel straight from the peaks of paradise had been
presented to him, Redding could not have been more astounded nor
more enraptured.

But to Lucy it was a moment of intense chagrin and embarrassment.
During the long silence of the past year she had persuaded herself
that Redding no longer cared for her. To be thrust upon him in this
way was intolerable. All the blood in her veins rushed to her face.

"Do you know where my muff is, Mrs. Wiggs?" she asked, after a
formal greeting.

"Oh! you ain't a-goin'?" asked the hostess, anxiously. "I wanted you
all to git acquainted."

"Yes, I must go," said Lucy, hurriedly, "if you will find my muff."

She stood nervously pulling on her gloves, while Mrs. Wiggs searched
for the lost property. There was a deafening tumult in her heart,
and though she bit her lips to keep from laughing, the tears stood
in her eyes.

"Austry's under the bed," announced Europena, who had joined in the
quest.

"I ain't!" came in shrill, indignant tones, as Mrs. Wiggs dragged
forth the culprit, and restored the muff.

"May I drive you over to the avenue? I am going that way." It was
Redding's voice, but it sounded queer and unnatural.

"Oh, no! No, thank you," gasped Lucy, hardly knowing what she said.
Her o