nd Margaret hurried through her change of attire.

"I thought you never were coming," began their mother tartly. "'Milyer,
you're the worst of the lot when you get your nose buried in a
newspaper. Boys, do keep still, though I suppose you're half starved,"
with a reproachful look at those who had delayed the meal.

The little girl had eaten so many of the delicious cookies that she
wasn't a bit hungry. So she entertained her father with the miles of
dahlias and the wonderful cat, so soft and furry and different from
theirs, and with truly blue eyes, and who could understand everything
you said to her. And Mr. Beekman was very nice, but not as nice as
father. The little boys were so short and so funny. "And I don't believe
I like _little_ boys. Jim and Benny, Frank and all of you are nicer.
Perhaps it _is_ the bigness."

They all laughed at that.

She sat in her father's lap afterward and went on with her quaint story,
until her mother came and routed her out and said, "I do believe,
'Milyer, you'd keep that child up all night."

Afterward Mr. Underhill went out on the front stoop, where he and
Stephen had a long talk, while Margaret sat at the piano making up for
her afternoon's dissipation, but in the soft, vague light she could see
Dolly Beekman with her laughing eyes and crown of shining hair, and was
sure she would make a delightful sister. Mrs. Underhill sat and darned
stockings and sighed a little. Yet she was secretly proud of Margaret,
even if she did study French and music. Whether they would ever help her
to keep house was a question. Where would she have found time for such
things?

CHAPTER VII

MISS LOIS AND SIXTY YEARS AGO

"Yes; come get out once in a while."

"I've no time to spare," said Mrs. Underhill. "Some one has to work or
you'd all be in a fine case. Here's Margaret spending her time drumming
on the piano and studying French and what not. I dare say you'll be
called upon some time to take your daughter to Paris to show off her
accomplishments."

"I hope we'll do credit to each other," he returned with a dry, humorous
laugh, as if amused.

"The world goes round so fast one can't keep up with it. If the work
only rushed on that way! Why don't some of you smart men who have plenty
of time to sit round, invent a machine to cook and sew and sweep the
house?"

"Martha's a pretty good housekeeping machine, I think. And you might
find another to sew."

She had no idea that Elias H