"hate the boys? Yes; we must hate
the boys."

Hope Wayne looked at the two old gentlemen, and answered,

"I don't think you need have warned me, grandfather; I'm not so apt to
fall in love with boys."

"No, no, Hope; I know. Ever since you have lived with me--how long is it,
my dear, since your mother died?"

"I don't know, grandfather; I never saw her," replied Hope, gravely.

"Yes, yes; well, ever since then you have been a good, quiet little girl
with grandpapa. Here, Cossy, come and give grandpa a kiss. And mind the
boys! No speaking, no looking--we are never to know them. You understand?
Now go, dear."

As she closed the door, Dr. Peewee also rose to take leave.

"Doctor," said Mr. Burt, as the other pushed back his chair, "it is a
very warm day. Let me advise you to guard against any sudden debility
or effect of the heat by a little cordial."

As he spoke he led the way into the dining-room, and fumbled slowly
over a bunch of keys which he drew from his pocket. Finding the proper
key, he put it into the door of the side-board. "In this side-board, Dr.
Peewee, I keep a bottle of old Jamaica, which was sent me by a former
correspondent in the West Indies." As Dr. Peewee had heard the same
remark at least fifty times before, the kindly glistening of his nose
must be attributed to some other cause than excitement at this
intelligence.

"I like to preserve my friendly relations with my old commercial
friends," continued Mr. Burt, speaking very pompously, and slowly
pouring from a half-empty decanter into a tumbler. "I rarely drink
any thing myself--"

"H'm, ha!" grunted the Doctor.

"--except a glass of port at dinner. Yet, not to be impolite, Doctor,
not to be impolite, I could not refuse to drink to your very good health
and safe return to the bosom of your family."

And Mr. Burt drained the glass, quite unobservant of the fact that the
Rev. Dr. Peewee was standing beside him without glass or old Jamaica. In
truth Mr. Burt had previously been alarmed about the effect of the bottle
of port--which he metaphorically called a glass--that he had drunk at
dinner, and to guard against evil results he had already, that very
afternoon, as he was accustomed to say with an excellent humor, been
to the West Indies for his health.

"Bless my soul, Doctor, you haven't filled your glass! Permit me."

And the old gentleman poured into the one glass and then into the other.

"And now, Sir," he added, "now, Sir, let