turbed feelings, as she hovered between the kitchen and the hall
door. Donald and Dorothy, neatly brushed,--cool and pink of cheek, and
very crisp in the matter of neck-ties,--stood at one window of the
supper-room. The flaxen-haired waitress, in a bright blue calico gown
and white apron, watched, tray in hand, at the other. A small wood-fire,
just lighted, was waking into life on the hearth. Old Nero was dozing
upon the rug, with one eye open. And all--to say nothing of the
muffins--were waiting for Mr. George, whom the D's had not seen since
their return from the drive, half an hour before.

When that gentleman came in he stepped briskly to his seat at the table,
and, though he did not speak, his manner seemed to say: "Everything is
all right. I merely came in a little late. Now for supper!" But Nero,
rising slowly from the warm rug, slipped under the table, rubbed
himself sympathetically against his master's legs, and finally settled
down at his feet, quite contented to serve as a foot-stool for Donald
and Dorothy, who soon were seated one on each side of the table, while
Lydia, carefully settling her gown, took her place at the large
tea-tray.

Mr. George, as the good housekeeper soon saw to her satisfaction, did
appreciate the nature of muffins.

So did Donald and Dorothy.

CHAPTER VI.

A FAMILY CONFERENCE.

AFTER supper, Uncle George, Donald, and Dorothy went into the library,
where they found the soft light of a shaded lamp and another cheerful
fire,--so cheerful, that Mr. George let down the windows at the top, and
the two D's were glad to go and sit on the sofa at the cooler end of the
spacious room.

"Liddy is determined that we shall not freeze before the winter sets
in," remarked Mr. George, hardly knowing how to begin the conversation.
He was not the first good man who has found himself embarrassed in the
presence of frank young listeners waiting to hear him speak and sure to
weigh and remember everything he may say.

The children smiled solemnly.

Thus began an interview which, in some respects, changed the lives of
Donald and Dorothy.

"Liddy is a good, faithful soul," said Uncle George. "She has been with
us, you know, ever since you were babies."

"And before too," put in Dorry, knowingly.

"Yes, before too," assented Mr. George. "Some years before."

Nero, lazing by the fire, snapped at an imaginary fly, at which the D's,
glad of a chance to relieve themselves, and feeling that