younger girl's smart, tailored suit had
made way for the daintiest of summer frocks, diaphanous, seductive,
and wholly fascinating.

"A vision of fluffy whiteness," cried Kate delightedly, as Helen sat
down at the table. "Helen," she went on, mischievously, "as a man
hunter you are just too dreadful. Poor Big Brother Bill, why, he
hasn't the chance of a rat in a corner. He surely is as good as
engaged, married, and--done for."

Helen's eyebrows went up in lofty resentment.

"Katherine Seton, I--don't understand you--thank goodness. If I did I
should want to box your ears," she added, in mild scorn. "You're a
perfectly ridiculous woman, and of no account at all."

Kate's amusement was good to see.

"Oh, Hel----" she cried.

But her sister cut her short.

"Don't use bad language, please. My name's 'Helen'--unless you've got
something pleasant to say."

Kate poured out the coffee, and helped herself to cold meat. The
supper was the characteristic evening meal of the village. Cakes, and
sweets, and cold meat.

"How could I have anything but something pleasant to say, with you
looking such a vision?" Kate went on, quite undisturbed. "Why, I
hadn't a notion you had such a pretty frock."

Helen's attitude modified, as she helped herself to home-made scones
and butter.

"I've been saving it up," she deigned to explain. "Do I look all
right? How's my hair?"

She beamed on her sister, waiting for an expected compliment.

"Lovely!" exclaimed Kate. Then with added mischief: "And your hair is
simply as fluffy as--as a feather duster."

Helen laughed. Her eyes were dancing with that merriment she could
never long restrain.

"I--I simply hate you, Kate," she cried. "I'm so upset I can't eat a
thing. Feather duster indeed. Well, it's better than the mop Pete
swabs up the floors with. If you'd said that, I'd sure have gone
straight off into a trance, and--and got buried alive. But your
appetite's awful, Kate, and I can't sit here forever. I'd say food's
mighty important, but it's nothing beside a _man_ waiting for you
somewhere, and you don't know where. Guess I'll have something to eat
before I go to bed. Please, Kate--please may I go?"

The humility of the final request was quite too much for Kate, who
laughed immoderately while she gave the required permission.

"Yes, off with you, bless your heart," she cried joyously. "And don't
you dare come back here without bringing your future husband with
you. Remember,