ggy--and I
was the proudest fellow in the world, barring none. I suppose our
grandson will be taking his sweetheart out quite casually for an
evening 'fly' in his aeroplane."

"An aeroplane won't be as nice as little Silverspot was," said Anne. "A
machine is simply a machine--but Silverspot, why she was a personality,
Gilbert. A drive behind her had something in it that not even a flight
among sunset clouds could have. No, I don't envy my grandson's
sweetheart, after all. Mr. Meredith is right. 'The kingdom of
Heaven'--and of love--and of happiness--doesn't depend on externals."

"Besides," said the doctor gravely, "our said grandson will have to
give most of his attention to the aeroplane--he won't be able to let
the reins lie on its back while he gazes into his lady's eyes. And I
have an awful suspicion that you can't run an aeroplane with one arm.
No"--the doctor shook his head--"I believe I'd still prefer Silverspot
after all."

The Russian line broke again that summer and Susan said bitterly that
she had expected it ever since Kerensky had gone and got married.

"Far be it from me to decry the holy state of matrimony, Mrs. Dr. dear,
but I felt that when a man was running a revolution he had his hands
full and should have postponed marriage until a more fitting season.
The Russians are done for this time and there would be no sense in
shutting our eyes to the fact. But have you seen Woodrow Wilson's reply
to the Pope's peace proposals? It is magnificent. I really could not
have expressed the rights of the matter better myself. I feel that I
can forgive Wilson everything for it. He knows the meaning of words and
that you may tie to. Speaking of meanings, have you heard the latest
story about Whiskers-on-the-moon, Mrs. Dr. dear? It seems he was over
at the Lowbridge Road school the other day and took a notion to examine
the fourth class in spelling. They have the summer term there yet, you
know, with the spring and fall vacations, being rather backward people
on that road. My niece, Ella Baker, goes to that school and she it was
who told me the story. The teacher was not feeling well, having a
dreadful headache, and she went out to get a little fresh air while Mr.
Pryor was examining the class. The children got along all right with
the spelling but when Whiskers began to question them about the
meanings of the words they were all at sea, because they had not
learned them. Ella and the other big scholars felt terri