But long experience had taught Mrs. Milo that procrastination often robbed her of her best opportunities. She pointed a slender finger to the carpet in front of her. "The boys," she said more firmly. One by one, Sue brought them forward--Bobbie in the lead, then the tow-headed boy; this to conceal the unfortunate state of Ikey and the war-like Clarence. "Here they are, mother!" she announced gaily. "Here are our fine little men!" Neither cheerful air nor kindly adjective served to pacify Mrs. Milo's anger at sight of the four intruders. Her nostrils swelled. "What are you doing here?" she questioned, with a mildness contradicted by her look; "--against my strict orders." Bobbie, the ever-ready, strove to answer, swallowed, paled, choked, and turned appealingly to Sue; while the remaining three, with upraised eyes, beseeched her like dumb things. "Absolutely necessary, mother," declared Sue. She gave each boy a reassuring pat. "As I was saying, they march from the library, preceding the bride----" But Mrs. Milo was not listening. There was that still white figure in the bay-window, observing the scene intently. She bestowed a pleasant nod upon the quartette. "You may go now, boys," she said cooingly; "I'll speak to you later." Bobbie found his voice. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you!"--and took one long step churchward. The tow-headed boy moved with him. This left unshielded the erstwhile contesting twain. Mrs. Milo's look seemed to fall upon them like a blow. "Oh! Oh!" she cried in horror, pointing. As one, Ikey and Clarence began rubbing tell-tale streaks from their countenances with their rumpled cottas, and pressing down their upstanding hair. "No! No-o-o!" cried Mrs. Milo. "That photograph! What are you doing with it?" In sudden panic, Bobbie shifted the photograph from hand to hand; tried to force it into the hands of the tow-headed boy, then bent to consign it to the carpet. Sue was beforehand. She caught the picture away from the small trembling hand, and smiled upon her mother. "Oh--I--I was just going to look at it," she explained. "Thank you, Bobbie.--Isn't it good of father! So natural, and--and----" Mrs. Milo was not deceived. "Give it to me," she said coldly. And as Sue obeyed, "Now, go, boys. Dora, poor child, works so hard to keep this drawing-room looking well. We can't have you disarrange it. Come! Be prompt!" Sue urged the four passageward. "They were just going, mother.--Don't touch the woodwork; use the door knob." And now, when it seemed that even Ikey and Clarence might escape undetected, Mrs. Milo gave another cry. "Oh, what's the matter with those two?" she demanded.