"Pretty nearly always. But I'll hope for the best."

Mrs. Macauley went away with her head full of plans for the success of
the affair she was so sure ought to take place. It was difficult for her
to understand how Ellen, who had known so much of the best social life in
a city where there is no end to the round of formal entertaining, could
be now as indifferent as Martha understood she really was to all
experience of the sort. It was association with Redfield Pepper Burns
which had done it, Martha supposed. But was he to do all the influencing,
and Ellen to do none? It looked like it--to Martha.

Left alone with Bob, Ellen made him ready for the little village
kindergarten which he had lately begun to attend. Before he went he put
up both arms, and she bent to him.

"I'm going to be a pretty good boy to-day, Aunt Ellen," said he. "I
promised Uncle Red I would. But I don't like to skip in the circle with
girls. Why need I?"

"Would you rather skip with boys, dear?"

"Lots rather. But the girls keep asking me. Why do they, when I don't ask
them?"

Ellen smiled down into the questioning little face, its dark eyes looking
seriously up into hers through long and curly lashes. Bob was undoubtedly
a handsome little lad, and the reason why the girls--discerning small
creatures, true to their femininity--should be persistent in inviting him
to be their partner was obvious enough.