He looked anxiously from one face to another; the ladies returned his look with another equally anxious. Mr. Mallow, however, nodded importantly. "Yes!" he said. "I was just goin' to tell the ladies when you come in, Very. I had asked Kitty to join us here this evening, but she is kept at home by a visitor. Ahem!" Mr. Mallow was too human not to enjoy prolonging the suspense a moment; he was too kind to prolong it further. "Johanna Ross!" he announced explosively. "I _was_ surprised!" "_Johanna Ross!_" all the ladies cried out in chorus. "Well, I never did!" Mrs. Wibird further elucidated the situation. "How unexpected!" said Miss Almeria gravely. "Yet not unnatural, sister!" Miss Egeria murmured gently. "Kitty's own aunt, you know!" "I am fully aware of that, my love!" Miss Almeria bent her head with dignity. "Nothing could be more natural, under ordinary circumstances; but Johanna is--peculiar, I am obliged to say." "I never could get over her not comin' to Doctor's funeral!" Mrs. Wibird lamented. "I was brought up with Johanna, but I never could get over that. And that message she sent! They were takin' stock, and John would understand. I hope he did, for I'm sure nobody else did." Mrs. Wibird gave a shiver of reprehension, and set her thin lips. She was a forlorn little lady, the opposite in every way of her brother. Marshall Mallow would have looked--and been--well nourished on bread and cheese, if he had enough of it. Marcia Mallow had always looked, as Mrs. Sharpe expressed it, like the thin end of a pea-pod, and the most generous diet never added a pound to the ninety-nine she owned to. Melissa had tried more than once to "flesh her up," without success. But then, "they" said she gave all the nice things her brother sent her to "that Wilson." Melissa always looked hungry, too; even to-night, after that excellent lobster supper. Cyrus collectively hoped that that Wilson would get his come-uppance some day. Melissa Wibird would be a pretty girl if she didn't look starved. "Has she come to stay, think?" asked Mrs. Wibird. "Did Kitty say, Marsh? What _did_ she say?" "She just said she was sorry she couldn't come, her Aunt Johanna had arrived." "And you didn't _ask_ her whether she was comin' to stay? Now, Marshall!" "A--if I may venture a conjecture"--Mr. Jordano waved his notebook with a gesture expressive of deprecatory delicacy--"the lady in question would appear to intend to pass some time in our--shall I say midst? Her trunks--four of them--were of ample size. I should hardly suppose that for a brief sojourn----" "She's come to stay!" Mrs. Wibird ejaculated positively; the Misses Bygood bent their heads and murmured, "she has doubtless come to stay!" "So there's an end to my fine projectile!" said Mr. Mallow, with a sigh. Then in answer to inquiring looks: