Dale couldn't help laughing--and the longer she looked at her aunt
the more she laughed--until that dignified lady joined in the mirth
herself.

"Aunt Cornelia--Aunt Cornelia!" said Dale when she could get her
breath. "That I've lived to see the day--and they call US the wild
generation! Why on earth were you having pistol practice, darling--
has Billy turned into a Japanese spy or what?"

Miss Van Gorder rose from the ground with as much stateliness as she
could muster under the circumstances.

"No, my dear--but there's no fool like an old fool--that's all,"
she stated. "I've wanted to fire that infernal revolver off ever
since I bought it two years ago, and now I have and I'm satisfied.
Still," she went on thoughtfully, picking up the weapon, "it seems
a very good revolver--and shooting people must be much easier than
I supposed. All you have to do is to point the--the front of it--
like this and--"

"Oh, Miss Dale, dear Miss Dale!" came in woebegone accents from the
other side of the tree. "For the love of heaven, Miss Dale, say no
more but take it away from her--she'll have herself all riddled
through with bullets like a kitchen sieve--and me too--if she's
let to have it again."

"Lizzie, I'm ashamed of you!" said Lizzie's mistress. "Come out
from behind that tree and stop wailing like a siren. This weapon is
perfectly safe in competent hands and--" She seemed on the verge
of another demonstration of its powers.