"ALEXANDRINA GERARD.

She looked doubtfully at Selwyn. "Is it all right to sign a poem? I
believe that poets sign their works, don't they, Uncle Philip?"

"Certainly. Drina, I'll give you a dollar for that poem."

"You may have it, anyway," said Drina, generously; and, as an
after-thought: "My birthday is next Wednesday."

"What a hint!" jeered Billy, casting a morsel at the dogs.

"It isn't a hint. It had nothing to do with my poem, and I'll write you
several more, Uncle Philip," protested the child, cuddling against him,
spoon in hand, and inadvertently decorating his sleeve with cranberry
sauce.

Cat hairs and cranberry are a great deal for a man to endure, but he
gave Drina a reassuring hug and a whisper, and leaned back to remove
traces of the affectionate encounter just as Miss Erroll entered.

"Oh, Eileen! Eileen!" cried the children; "are you coming to luncheon
with us?"

As Selwyn rose, she nodded, amused.

"I am rather hurt," she said. "I went down to luncheon, but as soon as I
heard where you all were I marched straight up here to demand the reason
of my ostracism."