But Mary had a last word.

"You do like mine, don't you?"

"Of course, like anything."

She wanted to say "Better than Helen's?" but restrained herself.

"I was ever so long doing it; I thought I wouldn't finish it in
time."

He saw with terror that she meditated a descent upon him; a kiss was
in the air. She moved forward; then, to his extreme relief, the door
opened and the elders arriving saved him.

There were Father and Mother, Uncle Samuel and Aunt Amy, all with
presents, faces of birthday tolerance and "do-as-you-please-to-day,
dear" expressions.

The Rev. Herbert Cole was forty years of age, rector of St. James's,
Polchester, during the last ten years, and marked out for greater
preferment in the near future. To be a rector at thirty is unusual,
but he had great religious gifts, preached an admirable "as-man-to-
man" sermon, and did not believe in thinking about more than he
could see. He was an excellent father in the abstract sense, but the
parish absorbed too much of his time to allow of intimacies with
anyone.

Mrs. Cole was the most placid lady in Europe. She had a comfortable