"No, he isn't," her husband admitted seriously. "That's always been the trouble with Julia; she never could bear to seem disappointing; and so, of course, I suppose every one of 'em has a special idea that he's really about the top of the list with her." "Every last one of 'em is positive of it," said Mrs. Atwater. "That was Julia's way with 'em!" "Yes, Julia's always been much too kind-hearted for other people's good." Thus Mr. Atwater summed up Julia; and he was her brother. Additionally, since he was the older, he had known her since her birth. "If you ask _me_," said his wife, "I'll really be surprised if it all goes through without a suicide." "Oh, not quite suicide, perhaps," Mr. Atwater protested. "I'm glad it's a fairly dry town though." She failed to fathom his simple meaning. "Why?" "Well, some of 'em might feel _that_ desperate at least," he explained. "Prohibition's a safeguard for the disappointed in love." This phrase and a previous one stirred Florence, who had been sitting quietly, according to request, and "resting", but not resting her curiosity. "_Who's_ disappointed in love, papa?" she inquired with an explosive eagerness that slightly startled her preoccupied parents. "What _is_ all this about Aunt Julia, and grandpa goin' to live alone, and people committing suicide and prohibition and everything? What _is_ all this, mamma?" "Nothing, Florence." "Nothing! That's what you always say about the very most inter'sting things that happen in the whole family! What _is_ all this, papa?" "It's nothing that would be interesting to little girls, Florence. Merely some family matters." "My goodness!" Florence exclaimed. "I'm not a 'little girl' any more, papa! You're _always_ forgetting my age! And if it's a family matter I belong to the family, I guess, about as much as anybody else, don't I? Grandpa himself isn't any _more_ one of the family than I am, I don't care _how_ old he is!" This was undeniable, and her father laughed. "It's really nothing you'd care about one way or the other," he said. "Well, I'd care about it if it's a secret," Florence insisted. "If it's a secret I'd want to know it, whatever it's about." "Oh, it isn't a secret, particularly, I suppose. At least, it's not to be made public for a time; it's only to be known in the family." "Well, didn't I just _prove_ I'm as much one o' the family as----" "Never mind," her father said soothingly. "I don't suppose there's any harm in your knowing it--if you won't go telling everybody. Your Aunt Julia has just written us that she's engaged." Mrs. Atwater uttered an exclamation, but she was too late to check him. "I'm afraid you oughtn't to have told Florence. She _isn't_ just the most discreet----" "Pshaw!" he laughed. "She certainly is 'one of the family', however, and Julia wrote that all of the family might be told. You'll not speak of it outside the family, will you, Florence?"