was laughing at. Then he went by himself about righting wrongs. He
hunted about until he found on his mother's desk some left-over
wedding-cards, and he sent invitations to both the wedding and
reception to Randolph Anderson and his mother, which were received
that night.

Randolph carried them home, and his mother examined them with
considerable satisfaction.

"We might go to the ceremony," said she, with doubtful eyes on her
son's face.

"I really think we had better not, mother."

"You think we had better not, simply to the ceremony? Of course I
admit that we could not go to the reception at the house, since we
have not called, but the ceremony?"

"I think we had better not; this very late invitation--"

"Oh, Randolph, that is easily accounted for. It is so easy to
overlook an invitation."

But Randolph persisted in his dissent to the proposition to attend.
He was quite sure how the invitation had happened to come at all, and
later on in the day he was confirmed in his opinion when Eddy Carroll
made a rush into his office and inquired, breathlessly, if he had
received his invitation and if he was coming.

"Because I found out you hadn't been asked, and I told them it was
mean, and I sent you one myself," said he, with generous indignation.

Anderson finally compromised by going with him to the church and
viewing the completed decorations. He also presented him with a
package of candy from his glass jars when he followed him back to the
store.

"Say, you are a brick," Eddy assured him. "When I am a man I am going
to keep a grocery store. I'd a great deal rather do that than have a
business like papa's. If you have the things yourself in your own
store, you don't have to owe anybody for them. Good-bye. If you
should get those letters done, you come, and your mother, and I'll
look out you have everything you want; and I'll save seats in the pew
where I sit, too."

"Thank you," said Anderson, and was conscious of an exceedingly warm
feeling for the child flying out of the store with his package of
sweets under his arm.

Chapter XX

Carroll had arrived home very unexpectedly that Sunday morning. The
family were at the breakfast-table. As a usual thing, Sunday-morning
breakfast at the Carrolls' was a desultory and uncertain ceremony,
but when Major Arms was there it was promptly on the table at eight
o'clock. He had not yet, in the relaxation of civilian life, gotten
over the regular habits acquir