,
slender figure approaching.

"Oh, Gerald, must you?"

"Phebe, I can't have you spoil that boy so. I won't have him a liar and a
gourmand; he's bad enough without that. Olly, stop bawling this moment."

"I won't," screamed Olly. "You hurt me, you did, and if I can't have a
cookie I'll cry just as loud as ever I can; so there!"

"Then you'll cry in the house and not on the front steps. I won't have
it. Come in immediately."

And holding up her habit with one hand, the young lady reached out with
the other,--a very small and white but determined-looking little hand
Denham noticed (from where he stood he could not see her face)--and
wrenching the child by no means gently away from Phebe, she dragged him
with her toward the parlor.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" cried Olly, vociferously, doing
battle valiantly with hands and feet as he went. "I hate you every day
worse than ever!"

"Hate me all you like," said Gerald, with utmost coolness and disdain. "I
leave you perfectly free in that direction, but you shan't tell lies or
disobey me. Now stay in there and be still."

And closing the door on the sobbing culprit, she came slowly back to
Phebe, still scowling and pressing her lips firmly together as she drew
on her gauntlets. "Little wretch!" she muttered.

"Gerald, please," said Phebe, flushing scarlet with mortification, "here
is Mr. Halloway. I want to introduce him to you."

Gerald stopped abruptly and looked up. She had not seen him before. A
fleet, faint color tinged her clear cheeks an instant, but there was no
other sign of embarrassment or annoyance as her dark blue eyes met his
with the singularly penetrating gaze with which they looked out on all
the world. There was no denying it. With her clear-cut, aristocratic
face, and her slim, straight figure, stately perhaps rather than
graceful, and a trifle haughty in its unbending erectness, Gerald Vernor
was very, very handsome.

"I am happy to meet you at last, Miss Vernor," said Denham, with his
pleasant smile. "But you are no stranger to me, I assure you. Miss Phebe
made us all friends of yours long since."

Gerald's brows contracted. "Phebe is very kind," she said, with quite
the opposite from gratitude in her voice, "but I hate to be talked about
beforehand. One starts on a false basis from the first. Besides, it gives
every one else the advantage over one."

"To be sure," replied Denham, "we cannot expect you to know us as
well from hea