he added a postscript: _"I want you all to myself."_ He smiled as he
wrote that, but half shook his head. He did not (such was his code)
enjoy being agreeable for a purpose. "But I can't help it," he
thought, frowning; "she is so very difficult, just now."

He was right about the postscript; she read the letter with a curl of
her lip. "'A few hours,'" she said; then--"'I want you all to
myself.'" The delicate color flooded into her face; she crushed the
letter to her lips, her eyes running over with laughing tears.

"Oh, David," she cried,--"let's go and tell Maggie--we must have such
a dinner! He's coming!"

"Who?" said David.

"Why, Mr. Pryor, dear little boy. I want you to love him. Will you
love him?" "I'll see," said David; "is Alice coming?"

Instantly her gayety flagged. "No, dear, no!"

"Well; I guess she's too old to play with;" David consoled himself;
"she's nineteen."

"I must speak to Maggie about the dinner," Helena said dully. But when
she talked to the woman, interest came back again; this time he should
not complain of his food! Maggie smiled indulgently at her excitement,

"My, Mrs. Richie, I don't believe no wife could take as good care of
Mr. Pryor--and you just his sister!"