sitting down on a table, the only available seat. "It takes a long
time to get settled, don't you think so?"

"Oh--yes!" said Hildegarde, struggling for composure, and
conscious of Gerald's eyes fixed intently on her. "But you all
look so home-like and comfortable here."

"Especially Ferguson!" broke in Gerald, sotto voce. "How
comfortable he looks, doesn't he, Miss Grahame? No use, Fergs! We
marked your little footprints in the air, my son."

"Oh!" said Philip, looking much discomposed. "Well, I'll punch
your head, Obe, anyhow."

"Suppose we come out and look at the tennis-court," said Bell. "I
am sure you play tennis, Miss Grahame."

"Indeed I do," said Hildegarde, heartily. "I have often looked
longingly at that nice smooth lawn, and I hoped you were going to
lay it out for a court."

"Phil," said Gertrude aside to her brother, who was still blushing
and uncomfortable, "you needn't mind a bit. Jerry came in walking
on his hands, right into the room, before he saw them at all; and
they are so nice, they didn't care; they liked it."

"Did they?" said Phil, also in a whisper. "Well, that's some
comfort; but I'll punch his head for him, all the same."

And Gerald cried aloud,--