“John and Jim and I planned it out together,” explained Lucy, ignoring the last remark. “All those water colors in the dining room and sitting room are John’s. I think they make the house look intimate and homelike.” “This Mr. Sprague seems to be quite at home here,” Nannie interrupted. “Aren’t you afraid people will say things?” Lucy gazed at her mother a moment without answering. “Let me tell you about the house,” she suggested finally. “You really must have a sideboard in your dining room, Lucy. It looks so bare. Do you remember the rosewood sideboard that Papa bought for Mamma when I was born? Cousin Minnie has gotten a table and chairs from an antique store and they match it beautifully.” Lucy’s sense of humor came to her rescue. “When we get rich we’ll have rosewood sideboards and lots of other things,” she said laughingly. “Now you’re making fun of me, Lucy,” her mother complained in a hurt tone. “I only thought you might have a little interest in the furnishings of my old home. I didn’t mean that you could get one like it.” Lucy went up and put her arms around Nannie. “No, I wasn’t making fun of you, Mamma. Come into the sitting room and I’ll show you Dimmie’s baby pictures.” “Really I’m so tired I think I’ll look at them later. I think I’ll lie down till luncheon is ready, if you don’t mind. I always make it a point to rest thoroughly for a few minutes during each day. You have no idea what a difference it would make in your looks, Lucy. You ought to make that a rule which nothing should interfere with. I think we owe it to others to keep ourselves attractive.” “I’m afraid that’s easier said than done, Mamma. But try to get your nap. It will refresh you. I’ll call you when luncheon is ready.” Lucy spoke with determined good humor. “Are you sure those trunks of mine are in safe hands, Lucy?” Nannie questioned again as she rose to go. “I have a presentiment that something will happen to them.” “Now please don’t worry any more about them, Mamma. John wouldn’t employ any firm that was not perfectly reliable.” “Well, I hope so,” sighed Nannie, moving toward the hall. * * * * * When, at six o’clock, the gate clicked and John’s step sounded on the walk, Lucy was occupied in making a gravy that Nannie had suggested, and so was unable to run with Dimmie to meet him as she usually did. She was conscious of a queer feeling of being left out as she heard him and Nannie come into the dining room together. Mrs. Merwent had on a gown of lavender organdie, open at the throat, and a net fichu was draped about her shoulders. In the less trying light she looked more out of place in her maternal rôle than on the occasion of her arrival in the morning. “Where’s Lucy?” John asked. He appeared to be tired and there was perspiration on his forehead. He smiled on Nannie’s fresh appearance.