as a mountain of baked potatoes, and various vegetables, were under
discussion, when every one stopped short in surprise at hearing the
doorbell ring.

"Who--?" said Margaret, turning puzzled brows to her mother, and "I'm
sure I--" her mother answered, shaking her head. Ted was heard to
mutter uneasily that, gee, maybe it was old Pembroke, mad because the
fellers had soaked his old skate with snowballs; Julie dimpled and
said, "Maybe it's flowers!" Robert shouted, "Bakeryman!" more because
he had recently acquired the word than because of any conviction on
the subject. In the end Julie went to the door, with the four children
in her wake. When she came back, she looked bewildered, and the
children a little alarmed.

"It's--it's Mrs. Carr-Boldt, Mother," said Julie.

"Well, don't leave her standing there in the cold, dear!" Mrs. Paget
said, rising quickly, to go into the hall. Margaret, her heart
thumping with an unanalyzed premonition of something pleasant, and
nervous, too, for the hospitality of the Pagets, followed her. So they
were all presently crowded into the hall, Mrs. Paget all hospitality,
Margaret full of a fear she would have denied that her mother would
not be equal to the occasion, the children curious, Julie a little
embarrassed.

The visitor, fur-clad, rain-spattered,--for it was raining again,--and
beaming, stretched a hand to Mrs. Paget.

"You're Mrs. Paget, of course,--this is an awful hour to interrupt
you," she said in her big, easy way, "and there's my Miss Paget,--how