ndow.

This was one of the customs at Glen Cottage. When any such fitting
escort offered itself, the three girls would put on their hats, and,
regardless of the evening dews and their crisp white dresses, would
saunter, under Dick's guidance through the quiet village, or down and
up the country roads "just for a breath of air," as they would say.

It is only fair to Mrs. Challoner's views of propriety to say that she
would have trusted her three pretty daughters to no other young man
but Dick; and of late certain prudential doubts had crossed her mind.
It was all very well for Phillis to say Dick was Dick, and there was
an end of it. After all, he belonged to the phalanx of her enemies,
those shadowy invaders of her hearth that threatened her maternal
peace. Dick was not a boy any longer; he had outgrown his hobbledehoy
ways; the slight sandy moustache that he so proudly caressed was not a
greater proof of his manhood than the undefinable change that had
passed over his manners.

Mrs. Challoner began to distrust these evening strolls, and to turn
over in her own mind various wary pretexts for detaining Nan on the
next occasion.

"Just this once, perhaps, it does not matter," she murmured to
herself, as she composed herself to her usual nap.

"We shall not be long, little mother; so you must not be dull," Dulce
had said, kissing her lightly over her eyes. This was just one of the
pleasant fictions at the cottage,--one of those graceful little
deceptions that are so harmless in families.

Dulce knew of those placid after-dinner naps. She knew her mother's
eyes would only unclose when Dorothy brought in the tea-tray; but she
was also conscious that nothing would displease her mother more than
to notice this habit. When they lingered in-doors, and talked in
whispers so as not to disturb her, Mrs. Challoner had an extraordinary
facility for striking into the conversation in a way that was somewhat
confusing.

"I don't agree with you at all," she would say, in a drowsy voice. "Is
it not time for Dorothy to bring in the tea? I wish you would all talk
louder. I must be getting a little deaf, I think, for I don't hear
half you say."

"Oh, it was only nonsense talk, mammie," Dulce would answer; and the
sisterly chit-chat would recommence, and her mother's head nid-nodded
on the cushions until the next interruption.

"We shall not have many more of these strolls," observed Dick,
regretfully, as they all walked together