han I loved her--"

"What!"

"Yes; isn't she funny?--was because he 'wiped his feet when he came into
the house.'"

Edith's father stopped whistling, and smiled: "That child is as
practical as a shuttle; but she hasn't a mean streak in her!" he said,
with satisfaction, and began to whistle again. "Nice girl," he said,
after a while; "but the most rationalizing youngster! I hope she'll get
foolish before she falls in love. Mary, one of these days, when she
grows up, perhaps she and Maurice--?"

"Matchmaker!" she said, horrified; then objected: "Can't she
rationalize and fall in love too? I'm rather given to reason myself,
Henry."

"Yes, honey; you are _now_; but you were as sweet a fool as anybody when
you fell in love, thank God." She laughed, and he said, resignedly, "I
suppose you'll have an hour's shopping to do? You have only one of the
vices of your sex, Mary, you have the 'shopping mind.' However, with all
thy faults I love thee still.... We'll go to the post office first; then
I can read my letters while you are colloguing with the storekeepers."

Mrs. Houghton, looking at her list, agreed, and when he got out for the
mail she was still checking off people and purchases; it was only when
she had added one or two more errands that she suddenly awoke to the
fact that he was very slow in coming back with the letters. "Stupid!"
she thought, "opening your mail in the post office, instead of keeping
it to read while I'm shopping!"--but even as she reproached him, he came
out and climbed into the buggy, in very evident perturbation.

"Where do you want to go?" he said; she, asking no questions (marvelous
woman!) told him. He said "G'tap!" angrily; Lion backed, and the wheel
screeched against the curb. "Oh, _g'on_!" he said. Lion switched his
tail, caught a rein under it, and trotted off. Mr. Houghton leaned over
the dashboard, swore softly, and gave the horse a slap with the rescued
rein. But the outburst loosened the dumb distress that had settled upon
him in the post office; he gave a despairing grunt:

"Well! Maurice has come the final cropper."

"Smith's next, dear," she said; "What is it, Henry?"

"He's gone on the rocks (druggist Smith, or fish Smith?)"

"Druggist. Has Maurice been drinking?" She could not keep the anxiety
out of her voice.

"Drinking? He could be as drunk as a lord and I wouldn't--Whoa,
Lion!... Get me some shaving soap, Kit!" he called after her, as she
went into the shop.

When