Mrs. Lee ran her eye about her table and rose. "It's the children's hour," she said to Marjorie. "You don't I hope, mind children?" "But," said Trafford incredulous, and with a friendly arm about his admirer, "is this tall young woman yours?" The child shot him a glance of passionate appreciation for this scrap of flattery. "We began young," said Mrs. Lee, with eyes of uncritical pride for the ungainly one, and smiled at her husband. "Upstairs," cried the boy of five and the girl of nine. "Upstairs." "May we come?" asked Marjorie. "May we all come?" asked Christabel, determined to be in the movement. Rex strolled towards the cigars, with disentanglement obviously in his mind. "Do you really care?" asked Mrs. Lee. "You know, I'm so proud of their nursery. Would you care----? Always I go up at this time." "I've my little nursery, too," said Marjorie. "Of course!" cried Mrs. Lee, "I forgot. Of course;" and overwhelmed Marjorie with inquiries as she followed her husband. Every one joined the nurseryward procession except Rex, who left himself behind with an air of inadvertency, and escaped to the terrace and a cigar.... It was a wonderful nursery, a suite of three bedrooms, a green and white, well-lit schoolroom and a vast playroom, and hovering about the passage Trafford remarked a third purple nurse and a very efficient and serious-looking Swiss governess. The schoolroom and the nursery displayed a triumph of judicious shopping and arrangement, the best of German and French and English things had been blended into a harmony at once hygienic and pedagogic and humanly charming. For once Marjorie had to admire the spending of another woman, and admit to herself that even she could not have done better with the money.