Kitty's voice quavered, and the tears came into her gray eyes, but she winked them away resolutely. Judge Peters blew his nose with a long, sonorous note. He had had a little speech of welcome all ready in the back of his head; nothing formal, just distinctive enough to mark the occasion; but all he found to say, and that gruffly, without an atom of his beautiful Court manner, was: "How are you, Kitty? How are you? Glad to see you!" Mr. Jordano was hardly more fortunate, even though he had written down his remarks the night before, and committed them to memory while shaving that morning. But he began bravely: "Miss Kitty, I bid you welcome to your native heath! This day--a--every inhabitant of Cyrus--a--will be marked with a white letter and a red stone--I--I would say a red letter and a white stone-tone-tone. The Graces--a--the Muses----" Mr. Jordano hesitated and was lost. "Nimporto!" he said hastily. "I am glad to see you, Miss Kitty; you are looking well, my dear young lady, considering everything-ting-ting!" Mr. Jordano retired in confusion, flourishing his note-book nervously. Mr. Mallow's turn had come. Taking both Kitty's hands, he shook them up and down solemnly, as if working a double pump. "How are you, Kitty?" he said huskily. "Pretty well, thank ye! My bronical tubes don't conjingle, that's all. Well! well! well! how about it? Lots of water in the 'Tlantic Ocean, eh? Treat you pretty well, did they? Find anything better than the Mallow House in them foreign caravans? Bet you didn't!" Here the Chanters swept round the corner, rosy, breathless, shouting, "Late, as usual!" and the reception was over. There could be no ceremony where the Chanters were. The three girls enveloped Kitty in exclamatory embraces: the three boys (well-grown youths, but always boys!) hovered about, as nearly embarrassed as Chanters could be, cracking their finger-joints and getting in a word when they could. It was something like this: Trebles: "You dear, darling, delicious _Thing!_ It _is_ too simply heavenly to get you back! Oh, Kitty, it _is_ so rapturous!" Basses: "Great, Kitty! awf'lly glad!" Trebles: "My _dear_, I can't believe it is you, though you _do_ look so deliciously natural, you darling!" Basses: "Corking, Kitty! looking awf'lly well!" Trebles: "_Isn't_ she? Only a _scrap_ shadowy, but it makes her eyes all the bigger. _Kitty!_ They are a mile round at _least_! I never saw--Oh, you _precious_ Thing, I _must_ kiss you again! Won't you give the boys just _one_--" Basses: "Oh! I say!" _Exeunt_, blushing peony red.