their needlework,
the gentlemen reading, Elsie and Ned playing a quiet game. Walter had
a daily paper in his hand, but presently threw it down and sat with
his elbow on the table, his head on his hand, apparently in deep
thought. He sighed wearily, and then words seemed to come from his
lips.

"Dear me, but I am tired of this dull place!--nothing to see, nothing
to hear, but the raging of the storm!"

"Why, Walter!" exclaimed his mother, looking at him in astonishment;
but even as she spoke she saw that he was as much astonished as
herself.

"I didn't make that remark, mother," he laughed. "I am thankful to be
here, and enjoying myself right well. Ah, Cousin Ronald, I think you
know who made that ill-sounding speech."

"Ah," said the old gentleman with a sad shake of the head, "there
seems to be never a rude or disagreeable speech that is not laid to my
account."

Then a voice seemed to come from a distant corner: "Can't you let that
poor old man alone? It was I that said the words you accuse him of
uttering."

"Ah," said Walter; "then show yourself, and let us see what you are
like."

"I am not hiding, and don't object to being looked at, though I am not
half so well worth looking at as some of the other people in this
room."

"Well, that acknowledgment shows that you are not vain and conceited,"
said Walter.

"Who would dare call me that?" asked the voice in angry, indignant
tones.

The words were quickly followed by a sharp bark, and then the angry
spitting of a cat, both seeming to come from under the table.

Little Elsie, who was sitting close beside it, sprang up with a
startled cry of "Oh, whose dog and cat are they?"

"Cousin Ronald's," laughed Ned, peeping under the table and seeing
nothing there.

At that instant a bee seemed to fly close to the little boy's ear,
then circle round his head, and he involuntarily dodged and put up his
hand to drive it away. Then he laughed, saying in mirthful tones, "Oh,
that was just Cousin Ronald, I know!"

The older people were looking on and laughing, but Lucilla started and
sprang to her feet with an exclamation of affright as the loud, fierce
bark of a seemingly ferocious big dog sounded close to her ear.
Everybody laughed, she among the rest, but she said pleadingly: "Oh,
don't do that again, Cousin Ronald! I didn't know I had any nerves,
but I believe I have."

"Well, daughter, don't encourage them," her father said in kind and
tender tones, taki