suggestion.

"Sing that funny song, Uncle Philip!" pleaded Billy; "you know--the one
about:

"She hit him with a shingle
Which made his breeches tingle
Because he pinched his little baby brother;
And he ran down the lane
With his pants full of pain.
Oh, a boy's best friend is his mother!"

"_Billy!_" gasped Miss Erroll.

Selwyn, mortified, said severely: "That is a very dreadful song,
Billy--"

"But _you_ taught it to me--"

Eileen swung around on the piano stool, but Selwyn had seized Billy and
was promising to bolo him as soon as he wished.

And Eileen, surveying the scene from her perch, thought that Selwyn's
years seemed to depend entirely upon his occupation, for he looked very
boyish down there on his knees among the children; and she had not yet
forgotten the sunken pallor of his features in the Park--no, nor her own
question to him, still unanswered. For she had asked him who that woman
was who had been so direct in her smiling salute. And he had not yet
replied; probably never would; for she did not expect to ask him again.