esting question over their cigars in
an adjoining room--Mr. Kendrick's adherence to the code of an earlier
day making it impossible for him to think of smoking in the presence of
a lady--"I wonder if there isn't something you would let me do for you.
You and your grandfather living alone, so, you must have things that
need a woman's hand. While I sit here I'd enjoy mending some socks or
gloves for you."

Richard looked at her. The sincerity of her offer was so evident that he
could not turn it aside with an evasion or a refusal. But he had not an
article in the world that needed mending. When things of his reached
that stage they were invariably turned over to his man, Bliss. He
considered.

"That's certainly awfully kind of you, Mrs. Gray," said he. "But--have
you--"

She put her hand into a capacious pocket and produced therefrom a tiny
"housewife," stocked with thimble, needles, and all necessary
implements.

"I never go without it," said she. "There's always somebody to be mended
up when you least expect it. My niece Roberta tripped on one of her
flounces last night, dancing--and not being used to dancing in such
full, old-fashioned skirts. Rosy was starting to pin it up, but I
whipped out my kit--and how they laughed, to see a pocket in a best
dress!" She laughed herself, at the recollection. "But I had Robby sewed
up in less time than it takes to tell it--much better than pinning!"

"How beautifully she danced those old-fashioned dances," Richard
observed eagerly. "It was a great pleasure to see her."

"Yes, it's generally a pleasure to see Robby do things," Roberta's aunt
agreed. "She goes into them with so much vim. When she comes out to
visit us on the farm it's the same way. She must have a hand in the
churning, or the sweeping, or something that'll keep her busy. Aren't
you going to get me the things, Mr. Richard?"

The young man hastened away. Arrived before certain drawers and
receptacles, he turned over piles of hosiery with a thoughtful air.
Presently selecting a pair of black silk socks of particularly fine
texture, he deliberately forced his thumb through either heel, taking
care to make the edges rough as possible. Laughing to himself, he then
selected a pair of gray street gloves, eyed them speculatively for a
moment, then, taking out a penknife, cut the stitches in several places,
making one particularly long rent down the side of the left thumb. He
regarded these damages doubtfully, wonderi