all this?"

"Father and Mother," returned Frank, his lips twitching a little. "And
they've got old Uncle Tim and half a dozen others for guests."

"But, Frank, how can they be having all this?" faltered Ella. "Why,
Father's not so very far from eighty years old, and--Mabel, Mabel, my
dear!" she broke off in sudden reproof to her young niece, who had come
under her glance at that moment. "Those are presents for Grandpa and
Grandma. I wouldn't play with them."

Mabel hesitated, plainly rebellious. In each hand was a gray worsted
bed-slipper; atop of her yellow curls was a brown neckerchief, cap
fashion.

There were exclamations from two men, and Ned came forward hurriedly.
"Oh, I say, Ella," he remonstrated, "you didn't get those for presents,
did you?"

"But I did. Why not?" questioned Ella.

"Why, I got slippers, you see. I never can think of anything else.
Besides, they're always good, anyhow. But I should think you, a
woman, could think of something--"

"Never mind," interrupted Ella airily. "Mother's a dear, and she won't
care if she does get two pairs."

"But she won't want three pairs," groaned Frank; "and I got slippers
too!"