brother and sister. Yes, Lois, I must say, I wish I could see you in a
home of your own. No woman is really happy unless she's married."

"I think I'm the best judge of that," Lois answered. "No girl could be
happier than I am; to hear father call me his--Tyrant? I don't want
anything better than that."

"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Dale decidedly. "If you had a husband to call you
_his_ Tyrant, it would be a thousand times better. I declare, I always
think, when we pray for 'all who are destitute and oppressed,' it means
the old maids. I'm sure the 'fatherless children and widows' are thought
of, and why not the poor, forlorn, unmarried women? Indeed, I think
Archibald is almost selfish to keep you at home as he does. My girls
would never have been settled if I had let them stay in Ashurst. I've
a great mind to tell your father he isn't doing his duty. You ought to
have a winter in town."

"Indeed, I hope you won't tell him anything of the sort!" cried Lois. "I
wouldn't leave Ashurst for the world, and I'm perfectly happy, I assure
you!"

"Don't be so silly," said Mrs. Dale calmly, "or think that no one loves
your father but yourself. He was my brother for thirty-four years before
he was your father. I only spoke for your good, and his too, for of
course he would be happier if you were."

She stopped here to gather her cards up, and deal them out again in
little piles, and also to reprove Lois, who had made an impatient gesture
at her words.