y met Leila's father--General Wilfred Dick. The General
had married, in late bachelorhood, a young wife. Leila was like her
mother in her dark sparkling beauty and demure sweetness. But she showed
at times the spirit of her father--the spirit which had carried the
General gallantly through the Civil War, and had led him after the war to
make a success of the practice of law. He had been for years the
intimate friend and adviser of the Ballards, and it was at Mary's request
that he was to stay to share in the coming conclave.

He told Leila this. "You'll have to wait, too," he said. "And now, why
are you hopping on one foot in that absurd fashion?"

"Dad, dear, I lost my shoe----"

"Her very best pink one," Barry explained; "she threw it after the bride,
and now I've got to give her another pair for her birthday."

The General's old eyes brightened as he surveyed the young pair. This
was as it should be, the son of his old friend and the daughter of his
heart.

He tried to look stern, however. "Haven't I always kept you supplied
with pink shoes and blue shoes and all the colors of the rainbow shoes!"
he demanded. "And why should you tax Barry?"

"But, Dad, he wants to." She looked eagerly at Barry for confirmation.
"He wants to give them to me--for my birthday----"

"Of course I do," said Barry, lightly. "If I didn't give her slippers, I
should have to give her something else--and far be it from me to know
what--little--lovely--Leila--wants----"

And to the tune of his chant, they hippity-hopped together up the stairs
in a hunt for some stray shoe that should fit little-lovely-Leila's foot!

A little later, the silken ladies having descended the stairway for the
last time, Aunt Frances took her amber satin stateliness to the Sanctum.

Behind her, a silver shadow, came Aunt Isabelle, and bringing up the
rear, General Dick, and the four young people; Leila in a pair of
mismated slippers, hippity-hopping behind with Barry, and Porter assuring
Mary that he knew he "hadn't any business to butt in to a family party,"
but that he was coming anyhow.

The Sanctum was the front room on the second floor. It had been the
Little Mother's room in the days when she was still with them, and now it
had been turned into a retreat where the young people drifted when they
wanted quiet, or where they met for consultation and advice. Except that
the walnut bed and bureau had been taken out nothing had been changed,
an