Twould be almost necessary, Miss Maltby, I can tell you, if he was a
laddie of mine," declared the Scotchwoman vigorously. "I'd no have a
sweetheart that was either tongue-tied or unable to write."

"Oh, but you take too much for granted," cried Aunt Sarah.

"My observation tells me the two of them are fair lost on each other. I
watched 'em while young Shepard was here. It's true they are young; but
they'll never be younger, and it's the young lovin' and matin' was made
for--not for old bodies."

"You--you quite surprise me," said Aunt Sarah.

"You'd best get over your surprise, Miss Maltby," said the very
practical housekeeper. "You should have your eyes opened. You should see
them together again."

"Why not?" demanded Aunt Sarah, suddenly.

"Why not what?"

"Let the children have Cecile and her brother here for over Sunday--for
a week end. Let them give a little party. I am sure I loved parties when
I was a young girl and lived at this Corner House, when mother was
alive."

"It's a good idea," said the housekeeper. "I'll make some layer cakes
for the party. We'll not need to go to the expense of a caterer--"

She would have gone on immediately planning for the affair had she not,
on glancing through the window, seen the dog catchers' green van
rattling over the crossing of Main Street.

"There's those dog catchers!" she exclaimed. "I wonder if Tom Jonah's
safe. There are some children running and crying after it--they've lost
a pet I've no doubt."

Then suddenly she sprang to her feet.

"Miss Maltby!" she cried. "'Tis our Tess and Dot--and Sammy Pinkney, the
little scamp! It must be either his bulldog or old Tom Jonah those
pestilent men have caught."

Aunt Sarah had very good eyes indeed. She had already spied the party
and she could see in the back of the van.

"It is Tom Jonah!" she exclaimed. "They must be stopped. How dared those
men take our dog?"

Mrs. MacCall, who had no shoes on, could not hurry out. But Aunt Sarah
was dressed for company as she always was in the afternoon. She amazed
the sputtering housekeeper by stopping only to throw a fleecy hood over
her hair before hurrying out of the front door of the Corner House.

Aunt Sarah Maltby seldom left the premises save for church on Sunday.
She did not even ride much in the girls' motor-car. She had made up her
mind that an automobile was an unnecessary luxury and a "new-fangled
notion" anyway; therefore she seldom allowed herself to be c