, yes," says Aunty. "She is still with me. Rather
grown up now, though. I must send for her. Pardon me." And she rings for
Selma.

Well, that queers the game entirely. Two minutes more, and Vee has been
towed in for inspection and I'm left alone in banishment.

"Well, well!" I can hear Uncle Kyrle sing out. "Why, young lady, what
right had you to change from a tow-headed schoolgirl into such
a--Zenobia, please face the other way and don't listen, while I try to
tell this radiant young person how utterly charming she has become. No,
I can't begin to do the subject justice. Twenty or thirty years ago I
might have had some success. Ah, me! Those gray eyes of yours, my dear,
hold mischief enough to wreck a convention of saints. Ah, blushing, are
you? Forgive me. I ought to know better. Let me tell you, though, I've a
young nephew with a pair of blue eyes that might be a match for your
gray ones. You must allow me to bring him up some day."

And I'd like to have had a glimpse of Vee's face just then. About there,
though, Aunty breaks in.

"A nephew, Mr. Ballard?" says she.

"Poor Dick's boy," says he. "The one we hunted all over the States for
after Dick took him on that wild goose chase from which he never came
back. Let's see, you must have known the youngster's mother,--Irene
Ballard."

"That stunning young woman with the copper-red hair whom you introduced
at Palermo?" asks Aunty. "Is--is she----"

"No," says Uncle Kyrle. "Poor Irene! She was always doing something for
someone, you know, and when this big war got under way--well, she went
to the front at the first call from the Red Cross. I might have known
she would. I suppose she simply couldn't bear to keep out of it--all
that suffering, and so much help needed. No more skillful or efficient
hands than hers, I'll wager, Madam, were ever volunteered, nor any
braver soul. She was pure gold, Irene."

"And," puts in Aunty, "she was--er----"

Uncle Kyrle nods. "In a field hospital, under fire," says he, "late last
September. That's all we know. Where do you think, though, I ran across
that boy of hers? Found him at Zenobia's; found them both rather, at a
theater. Sheer luck. For if you'll pardon my saying it, that youth is a
nephew I'm going to be proud of some of these days unless I am----"

Say, this was gettin' a little too personal for me. I'd been shiftin'
around uneasy for a minute or two, and about then I decided it wouldn't
be polite to listen any longe