near-by property, could be seen the top of the cedar of Lebanon which has made Flushing famous among botanists. Edward thought that the house and the lilacs and the cedar made a charming composition.
John, his face serious and troubled, moved up to the front door without stopping to see anything, and knocked.
His wife opened the door. She looked embarrassed and untidy. Edward noticed that John did not at once clasp her in his arms and kiss her. Instead they shook hands—John firmly and Mrs. John limply.
"This," said John, "is Edward—my kid brother."
Mrs. John gave Edward a limp hand. "Won't you come in?" she said. "Mommer's out back minding baby."
"You got my telegram?" John asked.
"It didn't say when you'd come; but I've been expecting you all day."
They went into the house, John lugging his big valise. The house was not so charming inside as out. The furniture was cheap and new, and the wall-paper old and dirty. It was obvious that Mrs. John was not a good housekeeper. Edward felt shocked and disillusioned. This was not the kind
