ing by this means learned the way, it was the most
natural thing in the world for father and daughter to visit the
Bartletts together. A man whose wife divorces him is entitled to some
social consolations, and if tea and jam at the house of two maiden
ladies of irreproachable character satisfies him, the community should
be satisfied also. The gossips had never been able to decide which of
the Bartlett girls was likelier to assume the role of Phil's stepmother.
There were those who favored Rose. As Kirkwood played the 'cello, Rose
to some observers seemed more plausible by reason of her musical talent.
Others believed that it would be Nan, as Nan was "literary" and Kirkwood
was a scholar, suspected of "writing," though just what he wrote no one
was able to say. It had been said thousands of times that Amzi
Montgomery must eventually marry one of the Bartletts, but here, too,
opinion was divided as to which one would probably be so favored. Amzi
had fluted in the Schumann Quartette, devoted to chamber music, but his
asthma had broken up the club, and he now rarely essayed the instrument.
Still, Amzi loved his joke, and Nan was a joker. So it was clear that
either Kirkwood or Montgomery might with propriety marry either Rose or
Nan. Whenever a drought seemed imminent in local gossip, these oases
bubbled.

Phil's aunts were not unaware of the high favor in which their niece
held the Bartletts; nor had they failed to speculate upon the chances of
Kirkwood's remarrying. They resented the idea, chiefly because such
action would cause a revival of the old scandal involving their sister,
which they were pardonably anxious to have forgotten. Then, too, it was
their solemn duty to keep their hands on Phil, who was a Montgomery and
entitled to their consideration and oversight, and if Kirkwood should
remarry, Phil would be relinquished to the care of a stepmother, a
grievous thought at all times.

On this rainy October evening, tea was dispatched in the gayest humor in
the little Bartlett dining-room. Rose and Phil disappeared in the
kitchen to "do" the dishes while Nan and Kirkwood communed in the
book-lined living-room.

"You've had a talking with Phil," said Kirkwood.

"Yes; she came in this morning, when Rose was out and I said several
things to her that I ought to have said long ago. It wasn't easy to say
them. But it's time for her to sober down a little, though I wish in my
heart she could go on forever just as she is.