give way in--absolutely nothing! And I don't believe most
men----Oh, hello, Doris," Leslie broke off, gaily, as there was a stir
at the door; "come in! Come in, Vera--aren't you girls angels to come in
and see the poor old sick lady!"

Norma was still lingering when Acton came home, an hour later. She heard
his buoyant voice in the hall, and began to gather her wraps and gloves
as he came to the tea table.

"Acton," Leslie said, firmly, "the bridge party is off for Friday, and
you're going to Mrs. Duer's with me, and you ought to be ashamed of
yourself!"

"Whew! I can see that I'm popular in the home circle, Norma!" Acton
said, leaning over the big davenport to kiss his wife. "How's my baby?
All right, dear, anything you say goes! I was going to cancel the game,
anyway. Look what Chris brought you, Cutey-cute! Say, Norma, has she
been getting herself tired?"

Leslie, instantly mollified, drew his cold, firm cheek against hers, and
looked sidewise toward Norma.

"Isn't he the nice, big, comfy man to come home to his mad little old
wife?" she mumbled, luxuriously.

"Yes," Acton grumbled, still half embracing her, "but you didn't talk
that way at breakfast, you little devil!"

"Am I a devil?" Leslie asked, lazily. And looking in whimsical penitence
at Norma, she added, "I _am_ a devil. But you were just as mean as you
could be," she told him, widening her eyes and shaking her head.

"I know it. I felt like a dog, walking down town," her husband admitted
promptly. "I tried to telephone but you weren't here!"

"I was at Aunt Annie's," Leslie said, softly. Her husband had slipped in
beside her on the wide davenport, and she was resting against his
shoulder, and idly kissing the little rebel lock of hair that fell
across one temple. "He's a pretty nice old husband!" she murmured,
contentedly.

"And she's a pretty nice little wife, if she did call me some mean
names!" Acton returned, kissing the top of her head without altering her
position. Norma looked at them with smiling contempt.

"You're a great pair!" she conceded, indulgently.

Leslie now was free to examine, with a flush and a laugh, the
microscopic pair of beaded Indian moccasins that Chris had brought from
Florida. Norma asked about Chris.

"Oh, he's fine," Acton answered, "looks brown and hard; he had a
gorgeous time! He said he might be round to see Grandma to-morrow
morning!"

"I'll tell her," Norma said, getting up to go. She left them still
c