"We might call it our elementary evening," went on Tavia, "and then look out for storms. You said the boys were coming?" "Coming!" and Dorothy sprang to the door. "They are here now. Listen to that shout? That's Ned. Oh, I must run down. Come along," and before Tavia had a chance to "collect her manners" she was bowing after Dorothy's profuse introduction. "I've heard of Miss Travers," said Edward pleasantly, while Nat was "weighing" Dorothy with one hand, and attempting to shake the other in Tavia's direction. "You must call her Tavia," insisted Dorothy, getting away from Ned, "or if you prefer you may call her Octavia--she has a birthday within the octave of Christmas." "Should have been called Yule, for yule-tide," said Nat. "Not too late yet, is it Tavia?" Mrs. White was smiling at the good times "her children" had already made for themselves. She now insisted upon calling Dorothy daughter and she was so kind to Tavia that she made no distinction but said "daughters" in addressing both. "Just see, boys," said their mother, unpinning Tavia's now famous half head of hair, "that is all there is left." "Never!" exclaimed Nat, handling the braid gingerly. "How much did you settle for?" "That would be telling," said Mrs. White, "but what I want you boys to do is to drive the girls down to your barber's. You said it was a very nice place." "Tip-top," interrupted Ned. "Bay rum or old rum or anything else from oyster cocktail to Castile soap." "But have you seen ladies go there?" asked the mother. "Took 'em there myself," insisted the younger boy. "Don't you remember the day Daisy Bliss got burrs in her hair? Of course I did not put them there--" "Oh, no!" drawled Ned. "Well, she always was a dub at ducking," went on the other, "but I put up for the hair cut all the same." "Now do listen, boys," and the mother spoke firmly. "Tavia must have her hair trimmed. I tried to get a hair-dresser to come out here, but we could not have it done until after the railroad man appraised it. So now the hair-dresser could not get here until after Sunday. That is why I am having recourse to a barber." "Couldn't do better, mother," spoke up Ned, who had been trying to get a word in with Dorothy "on the other side." "Then run along, girls, get your things. Don't dress up; it is country all the way, and the dinner folks are not out yet. It will be pleasanter to fix up after the operation," said Mrs. White. "But I say, momsey," called Nat after her as she went upstairs, "you wouldn't suggest a 'Riley,' would you?" "Nathaniel White, if you dare get that girl's hair cut in any but the most lady-like fashion I'll--disinherit you!" "Shadows of the poorhouse! Don't! I'll make the fellow trim it with a butter knife. Come along, children. I'll show you the newest in chaperonage at Mike's!"