my
way home to Indiana. But Dad wrote that before I returned he wanted me
to take a run down here and see Aunt Tiny and the old town where he was
born, so here I am."

Willie scanned the stranger's face meditatively.

"Then you're clear of work, an' startin' off on your summer vacation."

"That's about it," confessed Bob.

"Anything to take you West right away?"

"N--o--nothing, except that the family have not seen me for some time.
I've accepted a business position with a New York firm, but I don't
start in there until October."

"You're your own master for four months, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I ain't a-goin' to urge you to put in your time here; but I will
say again, in case you've forgotten it, that so long as you're content
to remain with us we'd admire to have you. 'Twould give your aunt no
end of pleasure, I'll be bound, an' I'd enjoy it as well as she would."

"You're certainly not considerin' goin' back to Boston today!" chimed
in Celestina.

"I was," laughed Bob.

"You may as well put that notion right out of your head," said Willie,
"for we shan't let you carry out no such crazy scheme."

"But to come launching down on you this way--" began the younger man.

"You ain't come launchin' down," objected his aunt with spirit. "We
ain't got nothin' to do but inventin', an' I reckon that can wait."

Glancing playfully at Willie she saw a sudden light of eagerness flash
into his countenance. But Bob, not understanding the allusion, looked
from one of them to the other in puzzled silence.

"All right, Aunt Tiny," he at last announced, "if you an' Mr. Spence
really want me to, I should be delighted to stay with you a few days.
The fact is," he added with boyish frankness, "my suit case is down
behind the rose bushes this minute. Having sent most of my luggage
home, and not knowing what I should do, I brought it along with me."

"You go straight out, young man, an' fetch it in," commanded Willie,
giving him a jocose slap on the back.

Nevertheless, in spite of the mandate, Robert Morton lingered.

"Do you know, Aunt Tiny, I'm almost ashamed to accept your
hospitality," he observed with winning sincerity. "We've all been so
rotten to you--never coming to see you or anything. Dad's terribly cut
up that he hasn't made a single trip East since leaving Wilton."

The honest confession instantly quenched the last smouldering embers of
Celestina's resentment toward her kin.

"Don't think no more