ble was spread. Everything was as dainty as good taste and handsome
auxiliaries could make it: the snowy damask, fine glass, and old family
silver; the small crystal bowls filled with chrysanthemums, and at each
plate a tiny bouquet.

Mr. Mahon was down town at his business, but there stood Mrs. Mahon, so
kind and affable; and the boys and girls of the family were waiting to
take their seats. The party paused, while, according to the good
old-fashioned custom (now too often neglected), grace was said; and
Cousin Irene, contemplating the bright faces and pleasant surroundings,
thought she had seldom seen a more attractive picture. But now she
noticed that May, after a quick look around, appeared startled and
anxious. The next moment the foolish girl exclaimed:

"O Mrs. Mahon, there are thirteen of us here! You do not like to have
thirteen persons at your table, do you? Pardon me, but I'm so nervous
about it!"

A shadow of annoyance flitted across Mrs. Mahon's motherly countenance,
but she answered gently: "My dear, I never pay any attention to the
superstition. Still a hostess will not insist upon making a guest
uncomfortable. Tom," she continued, addressing her youngest son, "you
will oblige me by taking your luncheon afterward."

Tom scowled at May, flung himself out of his chair, mumbled something
about "stuff and nonsense;" and, avoiding his mother's reproving
glance, went off in no amiable humor.

May was embarrassed, especially as she felt Miss Irene's grave eyes
fixed upon her. But Mrs. Mahon was too courteous to allow any one to
remain disconcerted at her hospitable board. With ready tact she
managed that the little incident should seem speedily forgotten. After
a momentary awkwardness the girls began to chatter merrily again, and
harmony was restored.

On their return to the drawing-room, May whispered to Miss Graham: "I
hope Mrs. Mahon will excuse me for calling her attention to the number
at table. I did not mean to be rude, and I suppose it is silly to be
so superstitious; but, indeed, I can not help it."

"Do not say that, dear; because you can help it if you wish," was the
gentle reply, "Mrs. Mahon understood, I am sure, that you did not
intend to be impolite; but I know she must have felt regret that you
should give way to such folly." Then, turning to the others, Miss
Irene continued: "Well, girls, considering the revelations of this
morning, perhaps you will admit that you have, aft