in and half of amusement. How had he done it?
he wondered. What had made him all at once act in a way so unlike
himself?--for, with the best intention, he was always a little stiff
and constrained with strangers. Yet there he was laughing as though he
had known them all his life, because Nan had rebuked him gravely for
slipping two hooks into one ring. Months afterwards he recalled it
all: Nan glancing up at him with quietly amused eyes, Phillis standing
apart, looking quaint and picturesque in her bib-apron, Dulce with the
afternoon sunshine lighting up her brown hair; the low old-fashioned
room, with the great carved wardrobe, and the cupboard of dainty
china; the shady little lawn outside, with Laddie rolling among the
daisies. What made it suddenly start up in his memory like a picture
one has seen and never quite forgotten?

"Thank you, Mr. Drummond. You have done it so nicely," said Nan, with
the utmost gravity, as he lingered, almost unwilling to descend to
conventionality again. Dulce and Phillis were busily engaged looping
up the folds. "Now we will ask Dorothy to remove the steps and then we
can sit down comfortably."

But here Archie interposed:

"Why need you call any one? Tell me where I shall put them." Mattie
broke into a loud laugh. She could not help it. It was too droll of
Archie. She must write and tell Grace.

Archie heard the laugh as he marched out of the room with his burden,
and it provoked him excessively. He made some excuse about admiring
Laddie, and went out on the lawn for a few minutes, accompanied by
Nan. When they came back, the curtains were finished and the two girls
were talking to Mattie. Mattie seemed quite at ease with them.

"We have such a dear old garden at the vicarage," she was saying, as
her brother came into the room. "I am not much of a gardener myself
but Archie works for hours at a time. He talks of getting a set of
tennis down from town. We think it will help to bring people together.
You must promise to come and play sometimes of an afternoon when you
have got the cottage in order."

"Thank you," returned Phillis; and then Nan and she exchanged looks. A
sort of blankness came over the sisters' faces,--a sudden dying out of
the brightness and fun.

Mr. Drummond grew a little alarmed:

"I hope you will not disappoint my sister. She has few friends, and is
rather lonely, missing so many sisters; and you are such close
neighbors."

"Yes, we are close neighbors,"