m the Goat, who had unobtrusively
consumed most of the plate of toast at noon while the Lambs were
discussing the visit of the Cousin and the Aunt. The Albany Lamb rose
to the occasion feebly.

"There seems to have been some mistake," he said. The Goat put his hat
on the bust of the young Augustus, and sat down on the divan beside
the Cousin.

"Well, now I've happened in, mightn't I have some tea?" he inquired,
genially. "No lemon, if you please," and he pointed a suggestive
finger at the rum. In dazed silence the Brookline Lamb hastened to
serve him, while the Cousin said, with a peculiar little smile
tightening the corners of her mouth:

"I thought it was strange that you didn't know Mr. Freeman."

"We really don't," said the Boston Lamb, making a late recover. "I'm
not at all sure that he is a fit person for you to associate with--all
we know of him is what he has told us himself."

"That's all right," said the Goat, impudently. "And, anyway, I didn't
come to see you this time, old man."

"What has he told you?" demanded the Cousin, as the Boston Lamb gasped
with impotent rage.

"A series of Munchausen adventures," returned the Philadelphia Lamb,
vindictively. "Six Apaches and three and a half Sioux with one throw
of the lasso."

"Won out in a hugging match with a ten-foot grizzly," added the Albany
Lamb.

"Nonsense!" said the Cousin, interrupting the Brookline Lamb's sarcasm
in regard to nerve cures. "Hasn't he told you about the mob at
Valladolid? Or about San Juan?" The flock gazed with unutterable
reproach at the Goat, who sipped his tea with a critical frown, and
observed, pleasantly:

"That happened to a friend of mine."

The Lambs surrendered at discretion, and roared. The Cousin glanced at
the Aunt, and they rose.

"We have had the most attractive time," said the Cousin, prettily, as,
suddenly sobered by this calamity, the Lambs protested in a body
against her going. "It has been charming--and I am so interested in
your experiment in altruism." The Lambs collapsed under the _ex
cathedra_ nature of the smile she bestowed upon them, as she turned
and held out a frank hand to the Goat. "I am glad you happened in,"
she said. "I mailed a note to you this morning--you will doubtless get
it to-night. Come and see us."

"The Holland, isn't it?" said the Goat, holding her hand, and then he
made a short speech to her that sounded to the paralyzed Lambs like a
Chinese laundry bill, but which evidently