was a very cosy group that Mrs. Baumhagen's eyes rested on as she,
with Jenny and Arthur, mounted the veranda steps.

They were sitting over their dessert, and Uncle Henry, with his napkin
in his buttonhole, his champagne-glass in his hand, shouted out a
stentorious "welcome!" while the young host and hostess hurried down
the steps, Gertrude with crimson cheeks. She was so proud, so happy.

Mrs. Baumhagen looked at her daughter in amazement. The pale, quiet
girl had become as blooming as a rose. "It is the honeymoon still," she
said to herself, and her eyes never ceased to follow her youngest child
during the whole time of her stay.

The coffee-table was set out under the chestnuts. It was a beautiful
spot. The eye glanced over the green lawn, past the magnificent trees
to the quaint old dwelling-house with its high gables and its ivy-grown
walls. The doors of the garden-hall stood open, and from the flagstaff
fluttered gayly a black-and-white flag.

"An idyll like a picture by Voss," laughed the little judge.

The young host gallantly escorted his mother-in-law through the garden.
Every cloud had vanished from his brow, he was cheerful and agreeable.

"But very sure of himself," Jenny remarked, later, to her mother. "He
feels himself quite the host and master of the house."

The uncomfortable feeling which he had always had in his
mother-in-law's presence, had disappeared. To her amazement he
permitted himself once or twice quite calmly to contradict her. Arthur
had never dared to do that. And Gertrude, how ridiculous! while she
presided over the coffee in her calm way, her eyes were continually
turning to him as soon as he spoke. "As you like, Frank,"--"What do you
think, Frank?" etc. And when her mother hoped Gertrude would not fail
to call on her Aunt Pauline on her birthday, the next day, she asked
appealingly, "Can I, Frank? Can I have the carriage?"

"Certainly, Gertrude," was the reply.

Then Mrs. Baumhagen put down her dainty coffee cup and leaned back in
her garden chair. The child was not in her right mind! that was too
much. But Arthur Fredericks applauded loudly.

"Gertrude," he called out across the table, "talk to this--" he seized
the hand of his wife who angrily tried to draw it away. "What does
Katherine say as an amiable wife to her sister? Words that sound as
sweet to us as a message from a better world."

"To be sure!" laughed Gertrude, not in the least offended by the
ironical tone.