Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were unusually bright. She and Jim seated themselves near the piano, Dimmie perched on Jim’s knee, while John stood by Nannie and turned the music for her. “I think it’s pretty. Don’t you, Jim?” Lucy commented when the last notes died away. “Very,” agreed Jim. “‘Pretty’ isn’t the word,” put in John. “It’s a beautiful little gem. And how well Nannie sings it! Don’t you think her expression is perfect?” “You’ll make me blush if you don’t stop, John,” protested Nannie with her silveriest laugh. “Well, I want you to be appreciated,” insisted John warmly. “Don’t you think we appreciate Mamma’s singing?” asked Lucy. “You don’t either of you seem much moved by it,” answered John. “Now, John,” interrupted Nannie soothingly, smiling up at him. “Sing that other one, the one I got last week,” urged John. “Here it is,” and he laid a piece of music open on the rack. “Now wait a minute! Let me rest,” Nannie objected. There was a pause. “Let’s not sing any more now. You forget that perhaps everybody isn’t as fond of music as you are, John,” she began after an awkward moment. “Do sing it, please,” pleaded Lucy. “Jim and I both love music, and Jim hasn’t heard it.” “No, I’m not in very good voice tonight. It’s a mistake to sing when you’re not feeling like it. You lose your reputation.” “Please,” Lucy begged again. “I should like very much to hear it,” Jim joined in. “Thank you, but you’ll have to excuse me this time,” said Nannie. Again silence descended on the little group. “Singing makes me thirsty,” announced Nannie at length, rising and moving toward the dining room. “Let me get you a drink,” offered John, following her. “Don’t you want some lemonade? I’ll get the ice for you.” “Let’s you and I make lemonade for everybody,” proposed Nannie as they entered the dining room. “All right,” acceded John gleefully. Then, raising his voice, “You two stay in there. Nannie and I are fixing a surprise for you.” “Good,” said Jim grimly. For a moment Lucy sat looking at Jim without a word. The voices of John and Nannie and the tinkling of glasses and ice came faintly from the other room. “You can’t make a square into a circle, Lucy,” Jim began very soberly, breaking the silence. Lucy’s lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for understanding, Jim,” she replied unsteadily. Jim glanced at her. “I’m going to smoke,” he decided sourly. Lucy smiled. “I wish you would, Jim. I must take Dimmie up to bed. I’ll be right down.” She led the child away, but in a short time rejoined Jim in the living room. He was walking up and down. His pipe was still in his mouth but it had gone out. “I feel better,” she informed him. “Dimmie is the sweetest thing after he gets into bed at night.” “He’s a great kid,” Jim growled approvingly. John appeared with one of Nannie’s dainty tea aprons around him, carrying a tray on which were two glasses. Nannie followed him with the pitcher of lemonade.