Are you much shocked, Mrs. Merryweather? I heard several names,--
Bell, and Toots, and--I--I heard the handsome red-haired boy
called Obadiah."

The Merryweathers laughed merrily, and Mrs. Merryweather was about
to speak, when a voice was heard in the hall, chanting in a
singular, nasal key,--

"Dropsy dropped a book,
And she's going to be shook!
Dropsy dropped a volume,
Which makes her very solume!"

The door was pushed open, and the handsome red-haired boy entered,
walking on his hands, holding aloft between his feet the missing
"Soul's Conflict."

"My son Gerald," said Mrs. Merryweather, with a wicked smile.
"Gerald, my love, Mrs. and Miss Grahame."

If Hildegarde was crimson (and she undoubtedly was), Gerald
Merryweather was brilliant scarlet when he rose to his feet and
saluted the strangers; but he was also atwinkle with laughter, the
whole lithe, graceful body of him seeming to radiate fun. One
glance at Bell, another at Hildegarde, and the whole party broke
into peal on peal of merriment.

"How do you do?" said Scarlet to Crimson, holding out a strong
brown hand, and gripping hers cordially. "Awfully glad! Please
excuse me, Mrs. Grahame, for coming in like that. I thought there