-Mrs. Peyton--think we're rather cool?" Charlotte suggested,
as they tucked the boy in.

"Not a bit. She'll be glad to have the job off her hands. The youngsters
are tired, and ought to have been in bed an hour ago. Stay here, and
I'll run down after Lucy."

On the stairs, as they descended, after Charlotte had seen Lucy to her
quarters, they met Jeff.

"Been putting the kids to bed?" he questioned curiously, under his
breath. "Well, you're great. Their mother doesn't seem much worried
about it. She's quite a talker. Guess she didn't notice what happened.
Say, I'm going. It's ten o'clock. You two ought to have a chance to look
'round without any more company to-night. Justin slipped off while you
were up-stairs. Told me to say good-night. Father and mother are only
waiting for a pause in your cousin's conversation long enough to throw
in a word of their own before they get up." He made an expressive
gesture.

"You know mother's invariable rule," he chuckled, "never to get up to go
at the end of one of your guest's conversational sprints, but always to
wait until you can interrupt yourself, so to speak. Well--I don't mean
any disrespect to the lady from Virginia, Andy, but I'm afraid mother'll
have to make an exception to that rule, or else remain for the night."

The three laughed softly, Charlotte's hand on her brother's shoulder, as
she stood on the step above him.

"You mustn't say any saucy things, Jeffy," said she, with a soft touch
on his thick locks.

"I won't. I'm too tickled to have you back--both of you. We missed
Fiddle pretty badly," he said to Doctor Churchill, "but we found time to
miss you almost as much. There have been several times while you've been
gone that I'd have welcomed the _chug_ of your runabout under my window,
waking me up in the middle of the night."

"Thank you, old fellow!" said Doctor Churchill with a hand on Jeff's
other shoulder. "That's mighty pleasant to hear."

In spite of Jeff's prediction, Mrs. Birch soon managed, in her own
tactful way, to follow her sons home. Mrs. Peyton went up to her room at
last, a cordial good night, following her from the foot of the stairs.
Then Doctor Churchill drew his wife back into the living-room and closed
the doors. He stood looking at Charlotte with eyes in which were mingled
merriment and tenderness.

"It wasn't just as we planned it, was it, little girl?" he said. "But
there's always this to fall back upon. People we want, and people