Mrs. Waring greeted her husband that night with a countenance of soulful meaning, and eyes that were uplifted to his in a fervid solemnity that ought to have warned any man of peril ahead. She had a delightful sensation that their most commonplace utterances were fraught with repressed feeling, and when he finally said to her, after dinner, as they sat by the little wood fire together, “I’ve a surprise for you, Doll,” her heart gave a joyous bound, and she felt how truly he had justified her thought of him. “What is it, Henry?” “Mother and Aunt Eliza and Mary Appleton and Nan are coming here to lunch day after to-morrow—Thursday. Of course I said you’d be delighted. It’s all right, isn’t it?” “Coming on _Thursday_!” “Yes. That isn’t a washing day or a cleaning day, is it?” “No.” Mr. Waring looked confounded. “You’ve spoken so many times of their not coming out in the whole year we’ve lived here, I thought you’d be glad, Doll.” “Henry, why do you never call me Ethel any more? You used to say it was the most beautiful name in the world, and now you seem to forget that I have any name. Oh, if you knew how _sick_ I get of always being called _Doll_! Such a horrid, common-sounding thing!” “Why, Doll—” “There it is again!” “Ethel, my dear girl, don’t cry. If I had had the dimmest idea—I seem always fated to do the wrong thing lately. Why can’t you tell me sometimes what you’re driving at? If you don’t want my mother and the girls, just say so. I can send them word to-morrow, and—” “If you _do_!” Mrs. Waring stood up tragically with one hand on her husband’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have such a thing happen for worlds.” She gave a little gasp of horror at the thought. “But, oh, Henry, you nearly kill me sometimes! No, if you don’t know why this time, I shall not tell you again.” She leaned her head against her husband as if exhausted, and submitted to be drawn down beside him once more. “You never think of me any more.” “But I do think of you, sweetheart.” He patted her head persuasively. “Lots of times, when you don’t know it. If you’d only tell me what you want, dear. I’m such a bad guesser. And I know you really do wish to see my mother and show her the children.” “It’s the fourth time she has sent word that she was coming,” said his wife pensively. She was already forecasting the plan of action to be pursued in making ready for the expected guests. When you are a young housekeeper with infants and only a nurse-maid besides the cook, a day’s company means the revolutionizing of the entire domestic machinery. In the city people carelessly come and go, and the household of the entertainer is put to no special preparation for them, but it is an unwritten law in the country that before the advent of the seldom guest “to spend the day” the entire domicile must be swept and garnished from top to bottom.