“Come right in, Nannie,” John’s voice was heard saying, and then, in direction to the chauffeur, “put the things inside.” In an instant John and Lucy’s mother entered the dining room followed by Dimmie who was unnoticed and looking rather rueful. The new arrival, Mrs. Merwent, was petite, with quick undecided gestures. While giving an impression of prettiness and studied femininity, her features, with the exception of her eyes, were not remarkable. These eyes were the color of Lucy’s and unusually prominent. She was attired in a faultless traveling costume of a cut and shade too youthful for her, and she was conscientiously powdered, rouged, and penciled. She would have passed for thirty-odd years old among the unobservant. She and Lucy regarded one another a moment in silence. They appeared not to know how to greet each other. “Surprised you, did we?” John was almost boisterous. Mrs. Merwent gave a tinkly nervous laugh. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Lucy?” she asked. Her lightness of manner was uncertain. Her eyes strayed over Lucy’s shoulder to Jim who leaned against the mantel shelf. Lucy kissed her mother silently. Their lips barely brushed. In order to conceal her agitation Mrs. Merwent gave Lucy’s hair and shoulders meaningless pats. “I’m glad you’ve come, Mamma.” Lucy’s voice was almost inaudible. “Oh, dear, such a journey!” Mrs. Merwent twittered. Lucy’s clear eyes looked at her mother steadfastly. John turned to Jim. “Nannie, this is Jim Sprague, the best friend in the world, and the worst enemy.” Jim came forward and shook hands. “Forewarned is forearmed,” she said, smiling up at him. “I hope we’ll not be enemies.” “No fear of it, Mrs. Merwent.” Jim smiled in reply. “She says we must all call her Nannie, Jim,” broke in John. “That’s what everybody calls her.” Jim bowed and smiled again. Mrs. Merwent glanced first at Jim and then at her daughter. “We thought you’d gone out,” she observed to Lucy. Lucy answered quickly. “I started for the door, but you came in so suddenly I didn’t get there in time. I didn’t expect you in an automobile, you know, and so didn’t pay any attention till you actually opened the door.” “Were you upstairs?” John inquired. “No, I was here,” returned Lucy. Mrs. Merwent put her hand on her son-in-law’s arm. “It’s all right,” she murmured; then to her daughter, “Now, Lucy, I think I’ll go up to my room, if you don’t mind, and make myself presentable after my journey.” “Of course,” acquiesced Lucy. “Your things are in the hall, aren’t they? We’ll just----” At this juncture Dimmie, who had slipped around to Lucy and hidden his face in her dress, began to cry. Lucy stooped down. “What’s the matter, darling?” she inquired. “She d--d--didn’t e--e--even----,” he sobbed. “Why of course!” put in Mrs. Merwent. “How stupid of me! Come and kiss your Nannie now.” Lucy pushed Dimmie forward. “Come on.” He hung back. “I’m afraid you’re a very sensitive little boy,” smiled Mrs. Merwent.