"Talk about your surprises," beamed Reddy. "I hadn't any idea that Grace and Tom had fixed up this one. I can't tell you how glad I am, old fellow." He shook Tom's hand vigorously. David and Hippy followed suit. The faces of the three young men fairly shone with joy. They had long understood the depth of Tom's dejection over Grace's steadfast refusal to give up her work for his sake. "We saved it as a special feature of the occasion," laughed Tom, "but I'll tell you three fellows a secret." He lowered his voice and the laughter died out of his fine face, leaving it very serious. "I never expected this happiness was coming my way. Long ago I gave up all idea of ever being anything but a friend to Grace. I can't understand how it all came about, and I suppose I never shall." "Maybe we aren't tickled over your good fortune," said Hippy warmly. "We've waited for this a long while. I always told Nora that it would happen some day. I knew there was just one Tom Gray and that it would only be a question of time until Grace found it out." "No fair having secrets," called out Nora. "What and who are you boys talking about in such low, confidential voices?" "Me," beamed Hippy. "Reddy was just telling me that he never fully appreciated me until cruel distance separated us. Of course I can't help feeling touched. It is so seldom that Reddy appreciates anything or any one. He is----" The confidential group suddenly dissolved in a hurry. Reddy took hold of Hippy's arm and rushed him down the steps and around the corner of the house in an anything but gentle manner. "There," he declared, as he returned to the porch alone. "That will teach him that he can't make pointed remarks about me. I guess he felt 'touched' that time." "N-o-r-a," wailed a pathetic voice. "Come and get me. I want to sit on the veranda, too." "Promise you'll be nice to Reddy, or I won't come after you," stipulated Nora, making no effort to rise. "I won't promise," came the defiant answer. "I don't like Reddy. He is a hard-hearted ruffian." "Thank you," sang out Reddy. "Now come back if you dare." "I don't want to come back. I'd rather walk around by myself in the garden." Nothing further was heard from Hippy for a time. Conversation on the veranda went on merrily. Apparently no one missed the stout young man. Suddenly a bland voice at Reddy's elbow said, "Why, good evening, Reddy." Hippy's fat face appeared between the lace curtains at the open parlor window. He beamed joyfully at the company, then favored Reddy with a smile so wide and ingratiating that the latter's fierce expression changed to a reluctant grin. At this hopeful sign Hippy clambered through the window and crowded himself into the swing between Jessica and Anne, who had resumed their seats there. They protested vigorously, then made room for him.