does uncommonly well
as a benedict. And you can waltz, too. Floyd actually bestowed the
privilege upon me," and he gives a light, flute-like laugh. Certainly
when Eugene Grandon pleases he can bring out many delightful graces.

A little pang goes to her soul. Floyd Grandon has never been exclusive
or in any sense jealous. Indeed, he has had such scant cause, but she
wishes secretly that he had not been so ready to give away that
enjoyment, and resolves that she will not waltz with Eugene.

"Come out and lie in the hammock," he says, after lunch. "It is shady,
and there is a lovely breeze; you must take a siesta to look fresh and
charming, and do honor to the Grandon name. How odd that there are only
us two!" and he gives an amusing smile. "What a marrying off there has
been since Floyd came home! Four brides in a year ought to be glory
enough for one family."

Eugene should, by right, go over to the factory and answer a pile of
letters, but instead, he throws himself on the grass, with an afghan
under his head, and falls fast asleep. Violet drowses in her hammock
and dreams away the happy hours. Only a little year ago. It runs
through her mind like the lapping of the waves in the river.

They are a little late in reaching Mrs. Wilmarth's. It is an extremely
picturesque sight, with seats rustic and bamboo, urns and stands of
flowers, and moving figures in soft colors of flowing drapery. Some one
is singing, and the sound floats outward to mingle with the summer air.

"Marcia certainly deserves credit," declares Eugene. "She is in her
glory. She always did love to manage, and maybe she tries her arts upon
Vulcan,--who knows."

"Mr. Wilmarth looks happy," says Violet, with gentle insistence.

"I suppose he is,--happy enough. But the marriage always has been a
tremendous mystery to me. I should as soon have thought of the sky
falling as Jasper Wilmarth marrying, and that he should take Marcia
caps it all. I give it up," declares the young man.

"But Marcia is--I mean she has many nice ways," remarks Violet, as if
deprecating harsher criticism.

"Well, for those who like her ways."

"You are not quite----" and Violet pauses.

"Generous or enthusiastic or any of the other womanish adjectives."
Eugene pauses, for Marcia comes to meet them and Mr. Wilmarth stands on
the porch.

"Well, you _have_ made your appearance at last!" begins Marcia, with an
emphasis rendered more decisive from a remark uttered by her husb