Mrs. Baron was glaring at her, her face aflame with mortification. It was a countenance the family was familiar with. “Well, what have you been doing to-day, Victor?” inquired Mr. Baron jocosely. It was the tone--and the tactics--he always adopted when he wished to avoid a crisis. And during the remainder of the meal, Bonnie May was an extraordinarily circumspect and silent little girl. CHAPTER V BONNIE MAY OPENS THE DOOR There was a polite, somewhat nervous exchange of remarks at the table during the remainder of the dinner-hour. It was the kind of conversation that is employed sometimes not only to conceal thought, but to divert attention from the fact that there is anything to think about. Nevertheless, every member of the family was thinking hard--and uncomfortably. Baron, Sr., was trying patiently to determine what subtle thing had gone wrong. Mrs. Baron, he knew, was not disagreeable without at least an imaginary cause. Victor and Flora were thinking along somewhat similar lines. Why had their mother deliberately offended an inoffending guest? They knew their guest was readily to be classified as a “precocious” child, and Mrs. Baron had always manifested a strong dislike--almost a dread--of precocious children, whose remarks are sometimes so disconcerting to those who are not very liberal-minded. But it was not at all likely that Bonnie May would remain a member of the household longer than a day or so. Indeed, it seemed quite probable that she would be called for at any moment. Such a child would not be permitted by relatives or guardians to go begging. Yet Mrs. Baron’s conduct might have been accepted as that of one who begins the tutelage of an adopted daughter. Had their mother jumped to the conclusion that Bonnie May had come to live with them permanently, and was she willing to contemplate such an arrangement? Beneath their small talk, therefore, they were indulging in decidedly wild hopes and fancies. When the family were about to leave the table, Mrs. Baron called the housekeeper. The others appeared not to notice particularly, but secretly they were all attention. Said Mrs. Baron: “Mrs. Shepard, this little girl’s name is Bonnie May. She is to stay with us this evening. Will you see that the spare room in the attic is made ready? and if you can add to her comfort in any way, I’m sure you will.” “Yes, ma’am,” said Mrs. Shepard. The good, simple creature was trying to hide her amazement. The child had been a guest at the table--and she was to be put up in the attic to sleep! The attic was really a third floor; but it was used mainly for storing things, and for the houseman’s quarters. She regarded Bonnie May briefly--and her eyes twinkled! The child was smiling at her amiably.