father's knee, and the love-making is interrupted. But there is a
strange stir and tumult in the young wife's soul and a shyness comes
over her; she feels her husband's eyes upon her, and they seem to go
through every pulse. What is it that so stops her breath, that sends a
sudden heat to her face and then a vague shiver that is not coldness or
terror?

Then he wonders when the professor, who has gone on a brief lecturing
experience, will be back; they are counting on him for the party, and
will be extremely disappointed if he should not reach Grandon Park in
time.

"And he will be surprised to find that some one else has come in and
taken possession," says Violet.

"He is so nice!" remarks Cecil, gravely. "I like him so much better
than I do Uncle Eugene. What makes him my uncle?" with a puzzled frown
on the bright face and a resentful inflection in her voice.

"Fate," answers her father, which proves a still more difficult enigma
to her and keeps her silent many moments.

The lunch is up-stairs, for Violet is not allowed to leave the room,
though all bruises and strains are well and the ankle is gaining every
day. The father, mother, and child get on without any trouble, though
Cecil is rather imperious at times. Denise will not have any one to
help her, and she is in a little heaven of delight as she watches the
two. Floyd Grandon loves his wife, as is meet and right, and she is
learning to love him in a modest, careful way, as a young wife should.
Such a bride as Laura would shock Denise.

Floyd absents himself from the great house, and sends Eugene, who is
nothing loth, to wait upon the ladies and perform their behests. Laura
does not care so much, and Mrs. Grandon is in her element, but madame
feels that as the child was her _bete noire_ in the summer, so is the
wife now,--a something that keeps him preoccupied. She is very anxious
to see the husband and wife together, but every hour seems so filled,
and she cannot ask Floyd to take her. "After the party," says Laura,
"there will be plenty of time. She is nothing to see, but, of course,
we will pay her the compliment."

This evening reception is really a great thing to Laura, who feels that
it is particularly for her glory, as the dinner was an honor to her
mother. It is not cold weather yet, and the lawn is to be hung with
colored lanterns, the rooms are to put on all their bravery; she wants
to say to the world, her little world, "This is the house Arth