cies and enjoined goodness upon all three. Then she got her hat—not a great, beautiful picture-hat of soft colors, like Beauling's mother's, but a hard little, tight little thing, that could not have been forced from one side to the other—and went with Judge Tyler. Beauling handed over the nuts and raisins to his grave little cousins, and they, having certain traits of ungravity still left in them, turned at once into charming mice, and joyous things were entered upon, for the cat was away.
When Judge Tyler and Dorothy had walked a certain way, Judge Tyler cleared his throat and said:
"About an hour ago Harmony came to my house, Dorothy—your sister Harmony. She left her little boy with me."
Dorothy wrinkled her unlined brow.
"I never heard of her marriage," she said.
"I may as well tell you at once, Dorothy," said Judge Tyler, "that Harmony was not married."
Dorothy's tired, girlish face burned a
