mselves generally.

Arthur Weldon was there to assist Uncle John's nieces; but his pleasure
was somewhat marred by the persistent presence of Charlie Mershone, who,
having called once or twice upon Louise, felt at liberty to attach
himself to her party. The ferocious looks of his rival were ignored by
this designing young man and he had no hesitation in interrupting a
_tete-a-tete_ to monopolize the girl for himself.

Louise was amused, thinking it fun to worry Arthur by flirting mildly
with Mr. Mershone, for whom she cared not a jot. Both Patsy and Beth
took occasion to remonstrate with her for this folly, for having known
Weldon for a long time and journeyed with him through a part of Europe,
they naturally espoused his cause, liking him as much as they
intuitively disliked Mershone.

One evening Arthur, his patience well-nigh exhausted, talked seriously
with Louise.

"This fellow Mershone," said he, "is a bad egg, a despicable son of a
decadent family. His mother was Hedrik Von Taer's sister, but the poor
thing has been dead many years. Not long ago Charlie was tabooed by even
the rather fast set he belonged to, and the Von Taers, especially,
refused to recognize their relative. Now he seems to go everywhere
again. I don't know what has caused the change, I'm sure." "Why, he
has reformed," declared Louise; "Diana told me so. She said he had been
a bit wild, as all young men are; but now his behavior is
irreproachable."

"I don't believe a word of it," insisted Arthur. "Mershone is a natural
cad; he's been guilty of all sorts of dirty tricks, and is capable of
many more. If you'll watch out, Louise, you'll see that all the girls
are shy of being found in his society, and all the chaperons cluck to
their fledglings the moment the hawk appears. You're a novice in society
just yet, my dear, and it won't do you any good to encourage Charlie
Mershone, whom everyone else avoids."

"He's very nice," returned Louise, lightly.

"Yes; he must be nicer than I am," admitted the young man, glumly, and
thereupon he became silent and morose and Louise found her evening
spoiled.

The warning did not fall on barren ground, however. In the seclusion of
her own room the girl thought it all over and decided she had teased her
true lover enough. Arthur had not scolded or reproached her, despite his
annoyance, and she had a feeling that his judgment of Charlie Mershone
was quite right. Although the latter was evidently madly in