een urging him to come.

"I know it's an extravagance," she wrote. "All the nice things are. But
Davy Junior and I are so homesick for you." David's heart cut no capers
at that, even before he read what followed. "I'm afraid people will
think it queer, your not coming, and of course, I can't tell them it's
because we are _poor_."

It was an unsuccessful trip from the beginning, though Shirley, all
smiles and exclamations, met him at the station and hugged him so hard
that she wrinkled his collar. She took him to Aunt Clara's in that
lady's new car, saying, "Home, Charles," as if she had been born to
automobiles and chauffeurs. There the day was taken up by many
guests--including the resplendent Sam Hardy, in cutaway and silk
waistcoat, New York made, that made David feel shabbier than he
looked--come to inspect Shirley's husband. The only real "aside" he had
was with Aunt Clara, who quizzed him concerning the state of his debts.

"You are doing quite well," she was pleased to approve. "I begin to
believe there's something in you, after all."

"Thank you," David murmured, as politely as the case allowed.

"Now don't get huffy with me, young man," she said. "That's saying a
great deal, from me to you. You can't expect _me_ to fall on your neck."

"Not exactly," said David.

"Humph!" she sniffed. "Sounds much like 'God forbid!' Which isn't
grateful. You've much to thank me for, if you only knew it. Shirley's
better off here--and you're much better off having her here--than back
there pinching pennies with you. There are some things Shirley never
could understand."

David answered nothing, but a little voice within was piping, "It is
true! It is true!"

Aunt Clara looked at him sharply, then suddenly--to her own great
surprise--blew a trumpet blast from her long nose and said:

"Tut! tut! Don't mind my impertinent old tongue. I like you better than
I sound. You may never set the river afire, but you have a pretty
patience _I_ never had. And I could be a fool over you, if I let myself.
Do you want me to send her back home? I will, if you say the word."

David hesitated a moment.

"Do you want her to go?"

"No," said Aunt Clara. "Shirley can be good company when things go to
her taste."

"Does she want to go?"

"If she does," said Aunt Clara, quite herself once more, "she's bearing
up under the disappointment remarkably well--for Shirley. I take it my
question is answered."

Shirley