He returned her careful scrutiny, and the look of approval in her eyes brought a ruddier glow to his cheeks and a merrier look to his eyes. He sat down and held out both his hands, smiling so broadly that she could see many white, lustrous teeth. She put her hands into his without hesitation. She felt extraordinarily happy. “Tell me,” she whispered, “are you the--the Romeo in the cast?” He released her hands and brought his own down upon his knees with vehemence. His eyes were almost shouting with merriment now. “Wasn’t Romeo in kind of bad standing with his prospective parents-in-law?” “Something like that. He couldn’t see Her, except up in a balcony.” He nodded his head. “Well, then, I’m the Romeo!” Again she regarded him critically. “You seem a little old for the part,” she suggested. “Do you think so?” He was thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe that’s what Mrs. Baron thinks. She won’t even let me stand under a balcony, when she can help it.” “Isn’t she quaint!” This with smiling indulgence. “But of course you don’t pay any attention to that?” “Oh, yes I do; we--we have to!” Bonnie May looked puzzled. “I can’t understand it,” she said. “You look like the kind that they always play the loud music for.” “The--loud music?” he echoed. “As if you were the oldest son, come back in the last act to lift the mortgage.” They smiled into each other’s eyes, and then Bonnie May drew close to him. She whispered: “I’ll see if I can’t get her out of the balcony.” She turned toward the door. “Shall I just tell her that Romeo is here?” He stared after her in delighted amazement. “Lord help us, no! Say it’s Mr. Addis.” His face radiated a joyous light even after she went out of the room and softly closed the door. She went up-stairs softly singing. At the door of the sitting-room she paused. Within, Mrs. Baron was reading one of those irreproachable- looking books which are always about something very remote. She did not look up at Bonnie May’s approach. Miss Baron occupied a soft seat in the bay window, and it was clear that she was troubled a little. The child beckoned, and Flora’s face instantly brightened. Mrs. Baron was fully aware of all that transpired. She believed the guest was afraid of her. She felt a mild gratification. When Flora came out into the hall Bonnie May whispered: “I want you to come down-stairs with me.” She took Flora’s hand and patted it quite blissfully. They got to the foot of the stairs just in time to see the outlines of a masculine form mounting the front steps. The frosted glass in the door permitted this much to be seen. “Some one else!” commented Bonnie May, and she turned to Flora. “Do you have so much company every evening?” she asked. “So much company!” echoed Flora; she looked puzzled. “Well, never mind,” Bonnie May hastened to add. “Some one is expecting you in the drawing-room. And please let me receive the new visitor!”