wn, didn't she, mother? And she broke her bowl, and bited
on the pieces, and blood came down on her bib--"

"All our tragedies!" laughed Anne.

"Didn't that hurt her mouth?" said the caller, interestedly, lifting
Diego into the curve of his arm.

Diego rested his golden mop comfortably against the big shoulder.

"It hurt her teef," he said dreamily, and subsided.

As if it were quite natural that the child should be there, the
gentleman eyed Anne over the little head.

"I've not told you my name, madam," said he. "I am Charles Rideout. Not
that that conveys anything to you, I suppose--?"

"But it does, as it happens!" Anne said, surprised and pleased.
"Jim--my husband, is with the Rogers-Wiley Company, and I think they do
a good deal of cement work for Rideout & Company."

"Surely," assented the man, "and your husband's name is--?"

"Warriner,--James Warriner," Anne supplied.

"Ah--? I don't place him," Mr. Rideout said thoughtfully. "There are so
many. Well, Mrs. Warriner," he turned his smiling, bright eyes to her
again, from the fire, "I am intruding on you this afternoon for a
reason that I hope you will find easy to forgive in an old man. I must
tell you first that my wife and I used to live in this house, a good
many years ago. We moved away from it--let me see--we left this house
something like twenty-six or--eight years ago. But we've talked a
hundred times of coming back here some day, and having a little look
about 'little Ten-Twelve,' as we always used to call it. I see your
number's changed. But"--his gesture was almost apologetic--"we are busy
people. Mrs. Rideout likes to live in the country a great part of the
time; this neighborhood is inaccessible now--time goes by, and, in
short, we haven't ever come back. But this was home to us for a good
many years." He was speaking in a lower voice now, his eyes on the
fire. "Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am," he said gently, "I brought Rose here a
bride--thirty-three years ago."

"Well, but fancy!" said Anne, her face radiant, "just as we did! No
wonder we said the house looked as if people had been happy in it!"

"There was a Frenchwoman here then," said Mr. Rideout, thoughtfully, "a
queer woman! She played fast and loose until I didn't know whether we'd
ever really get the place or not. This neighborhood was full of just
such houses then, although I remember Rose used to make great capital
out of the fact that ours was the only brick one among them. This hous