older boys on
their walk, whether invited or uninvited.

John Tenison behaved charmingly, eating his dinner with enjoyment,
looking interestedly from one face to the other, sympathetic,
alert, and amused. But Margaret writhed in spirit at what he
must be thinking.

Finally the ice cream, in a melting condition, and the chocolate cake,
very sticky, made their appearance; and although these were regular
Sunday treats, the boys felt called upon to cheer. Julie asked her
mother in an audible undertone if she "ought" to eat cake. Doctor
Tenison produced an enormous box of chocolates, and Margaret was
disgusted with the frantic scramble her brothers made to secure them.

"If you're going for a walk, dear," her mother said, when the meal was
over, "you'd better go. It's almost three now."

"I don't know whether we will, it's so hot," Margaret said, in an
indifferent tone, but she could easily have broken into disheartened
tears.

"Oh, go," Julie urged, "it's much cooler out." They were up in
Margaret's old room, Mrs. Paget tying a big apron about Julie's
ruffled frock, preparatory to an attack upon the demoralized kitchen.
"We think he's lovely," the little matron went on approvingly. "Don't
fall in love with him, Mark."

"Why not?" Margaret said carelessly, pinning on her hat.

"Well, I don't imagine he's a marrying man," said the young authority,
wisely. Margaret flushed, and was angry at herself for flushing. But
when Mrs. Paget had gone downstairs, Julie came very simply and
charmingly over to her sister, and standing close beside her with
embarrassed eyes on her own hand,--very youthful in its plain ring,--as
she played with the bureau furnishing, she said:

"Mother tell you?"

Margaret looked down at the flushed face.

"Are you sorry, Ju?"

"Sorry!" The conscious eyes flashed into view. "Sorry!" Julie echoed
in astonishment. "Why, Mark," she said dreamily,--there was no
affectation of maturity in her manner now, and it was all the more
impressive for that. "Why, Mark," said she, "it's--it's the most
wonderful thing that ever happened to me! I think and think,"--her
voice dropped very low,--"of holding it in my arms,--mine and Harry's,
you know--and of its little face!"

Margaret, stirred, kissed the wet lashes.

"Ju, but you're so young--you're such a baby yourself!" she said.

"And, Mark," Julie said, unheeding, "you know what Harry and I are
going to call her, if it's a girl? Not for Mother, for it'