"It serves you right." Looking up, she met Barry's laughing eyes.

She sank down on the step. "And they were a new pair!"

"Lucky that it's your birthday next week," he said. "Do you want pink
ones?'"

"_Barry!_"

Her delight was overwhelming. "Heavens, child," he condoned her, "don't
look as if I were the grand Mogul. Do you know I sometimes think you are
eight instead of eighteen? And now, if you'll take my arm, you can
hippity-hop into the house. And I hope that you'll remember this, that
if I give you pink slippers you are not to throw them away."

In the hall they met Leila's father--General Wilfred Dick. The General
had married, in late bachelorhood, a young wife. Leila was like her
mother in her dark sparkling beauty and demure sweetness. But she showed
at times the spirit of her father--the spirit which had carried the
General gallantly through the Civil War, and had led him after the war to
make a success of the practice of law. He had been for years the
intimate friend and adviser of the Ballards, and it was at Mary's request
that he was to stay to share in the coming conclave.

He told Leila this. "You'll have to wait, too," he said. "And now, why
are you hopping on one foot in that absurd fashion?"

"Dad, dear, I lost my shoe----"