you with my troubles. You're home
early----"

"You're sure that you're not angry with me?"

"Why, no--what for--whatever did you say or do?"

He hesitated and looked at her, trying to read her mind. Her
self-possession disconcerted him.

"Never mind," he said finally, "I was very foolish----"

"Were you?" she replied calmly. "I didn't notice anything out of the
ordinary."

He advanced a step nearer and his voice was agitated, as he burst out:

"You see, Miss Marsh, I----"

"Do you mind calling me Paula," she said in the most matter-of-fact
tone. "I hate the name of Marsh--it's my Uncle James' name--and it's
always on those horrid law papers--'_Marsh versus Marsh_.' It's always
connected with defendants and plaintiffs and--affidavits--and other
horrible instruments of torture. My heart beats every time I see the
dreadful words. _Marsh versus Marsh!_ I dream of _Marsh versus
Marsh_--and when I wake up in the morning--the first thing that greets
me in the morning paper is _Marsh versus Marsh_. I hate the name--I hate
it!"

Was this the opportunity? Harry did not know but he seized it.

"Why--why not change it?" he murmured.

Paula smiled.

"That idea has occurred to me dozens of times," she said gaily. "I will
when this horrible lawsuit is settled."

His companion grew a shade paler.

"Is that a--a bargain----" he asked seriously.

"Yes," she laughed.

"And may I--pick--pick out a suitable name for you----?"

"If you like," she said lightly; "any old name will
do--Smith--Jones--Billikins----"

"Even Par--Parkes?" he suggested.

"Yes--even Parkes," she laughed. "Anything but Marsh----"

The door opened and Mrs. Parkes entered, carrying a tray with tea.

"Here we are--here we are," she said cheerily, "a fresh cup of tea--I
opened a new packet of Lipton on purpose. Say, that Lipton makes elegant
tea! Oh, I've forgotten the toast. Harry, run down and get it, there's
a dear boy." Turning to Paula, she added: "He is a dear boy, isn't he?"

"Just like his father, I think you once told me," rejoined Paula, with a
covert smile.

"Did I? Well, he is in some ways--and in some ways he isn't."

"Mother, please!" exclaimed Harry. "I'm afraid I'm like you, Miss
Paula--I don't like to be reminded of my relations-- I'll get the toast,
mother."

He left the room to go foraging for toast, while Mrs. Parkes began
pouring out tea.

"Did the dear boy tell you?" she asked. "He said he was going to
apologize b