puttered in his glass of water, while Hippy dropped a fork that
fell on his plate with a great clatter.

Mrs. Gray raised her lorgnette and looked at her nephew.

"Thomas," she said sternly, "don't wear that thing here. It's not the
custom in this town or in this country, for that matter. If you are
nearsighted, buy yourself a pair of spectacles."

"Certainly, aunt, certainly; it shall be as you wish," replied Thomas,
without a tinge of embarrassment. "I am so unused to America, you know."

Then Nora relieved the painful situation by laughing. She was taken with
the giggles and she laughed till the tears rolled down her cheeks. The
others laughed, too, even Mrs. Gray, who felt that she might give way to
hysterics at any moment.

After dinner Thomas Gray detained his aunt in another room, while the
girls and boys returned to the parlor. The two were closeted together
for some time, and when they finally appeared, Mrs. Gray looked
strangely flushed and nervous. But there was a smile on her nephew's
thin lips and a dangerous flicker in his crafty eyes.

"I'll stake my last cent he's been getting money out of his poor little
aunty," said David to Grace. "He's just the kind to do it."

"Poor Mrs. Gray!" exclaimed Grace. "I am so sorry for her. You can't
think how she's been planning this party for months. Why did she ever
ask down that wretch of a nephew? David, do try and make friends with
him. Maybe there's something good in him after all, and it will help
things along if Mrs. Gray feels that we want to like him."

"All right," promised David. "It goes against my grain to talk with a
Miss Nancy dandy like that. It gives me a feeling in my chest like
indigestion and bronchitis combined--but I'll make the effort."

So he went over and joined the Anglo-American, and began to talk with
him in an easy, friendly sort of way.

"Won't you come over by the fire," he said. "I think we are going to
play some games the girls have planned."

"Thanks, no," said the other, stifling a yawn. "I think I'll retire.
I've had a long journey and I'm awfully knocked out. By the way, old
chap," he continued, coming closer to David and whispering in his ear,
which made that sensitive young man draw back with a quiver of dislike,
"you couldn't favor me with a few dollars, could you? I left my check
book in my portmanteau, which is still on the way and I find I haven't a
cent. I'll return it to-morrow."

David regarded him with amazemen