en I set up the newel-post--"

"And I ran on to his house by accident the day Marietta and I were out
with little Pete, when it rained and I borrowed his overcoat and
umbrella--"

"And then I had to call to take them away, of course--"

They intoned their confessions like a gay antiphonal chant. A bright
color had come up in Lydia's cheeks. She looked very sunny and
good-humored, like a cheerful child, an expression which up to that year
had been habitual to her. Dr. Melton looked at her without speaking.

"So, you see," she concluded, "not to speak of several other
times--we're very well acquainted."

"Well, Marius! Did you ever!" Mrs. Sandworth appealed to her brother.

"Oh, I've known about it all along. Rankin and I have discussed Lydia as
well as other weighty matters, a great many times."

Mrs. Sandworth's easily diverted mind sped off into another channel.
"Yes, how you do discuss. I'm going to look right at the clock every
minute from now on, so's to be sure to remind you of that engagement at
Judge Emery's office at half-past nine. I know what happens when you and
Mr. Rankin get to talking."

"I'll not stay long; Miss Emery has precedence."

"Oh, don't mind me," said Lydia.

"They won't--nor anything else," her aunt assured her.

Rankin laughed at this characterization. The doctor did not seem to
hear. He was brooding, and drumming on the table. From this reverie he
was startled by the younger man's next statement.

"I've got an apprentice," he announced.

"Eh?" queried the doctor with unexpected sharpness.

"The fifteen-year-old son of my neighbor, Luigi Carfarone, who works on
the railroad. The boy's been bad--truant--street gamin--all that sort of
thing, and his mother, who comes in to clean for me sometimes, has been
awfully anxious about him. But it seems he has a passion for
tools--maybe his ancestors were mediaeval craftsmen. Anyhow, he's been
working for me lately, doing some of the simpler jobs, and really
learning fast. And he's been so interested he's forgotten all his
deviltry. So, yesterday, didn't he and his father and his mother and
about a dozen littler brothers and sisters all come in solemn
procession, dressed in their best, to dedicate him to me and my
profession, as they grandly call it."

"Oh, how perfectly lovely!" cried Lydia.

The doctor resumed his drumming morosely. "Of course you know the end of
that."

"You mean he'll get tired of it, and take to robbing chicken-