"How do you do, my dear? Mr. Girard has just told me that he was going to stay here to-night, in Mr. Alexander's absence. He said little Redge was threatened with the croup. Now, if I had only known that Mr. Alexander was away, _I_ could have come and stayed with you!" "Oh, that wasn't at all necessary," said Lois hastily. "Thank you very much. Do sit down, won't you, Mrs. Snow?" "Only for a minute, then; I must go back to Bertha," said Mrs. Snow, seating herself and fumbling for something under her cloak. "I just came over to read you a letter. It's in my bag--I can't seem to find it. Well, perhaps I'd better rest for a minute." Mrs. Snow's face looked unusually lined and set; in spite of her plaintiveness, her eyes had a harassed glitter. "Isn't it rather late for you to be out alone?" asked Lois. "Yes; Ada would have come around here with me, but she was expecting Mr. Sutton. She was expecting him last night, but he didn't come. If _I_ were a young lady, I'd let a gentleman wait for _me_ the next time; it used to be thought more attractive, in my day: but Ada's so afraid of not seeming cordial; gentlemen seem to be so sensitive nowadays! I said to her, 'Ada, when a man is enough at home in a house to kick the cat, and ask for cake whenever he feels like it, I do _not_ see that it is necessary to stand on ceremony with him.' But Ada thinks differently." "It is difficult to make rules," said Lois vaguely. "Yes," sighed Mrs. Snow. "As I was saying to Bertha, you don't find a young man like Mr. Girard, so considerate of every one--not that he's so _very_ young, either; I'm sure he often appears much older than he is. It's his manner--he has a manner like my dear father. He and Bertha have long chats together; really, he is what _I_ would call quite attentive, though she won't hear of such a thing--but sometimes young men _do_ take a great fancy for older girls. I had a friend who married a gentleman twenty-seven years younger--he died soon afterward. But many people think nothing of a little difference of twelve or fifteen years. I said to Bertha this morning, 'Bertha, if you'd dress yourself a little younger--if you'd only wear a blue bow in your hair.' But no; I can't say anything nowadays to my own children without being flown at!" Mrs. Snow's voice trembled. "If my darling William were here!" "Have you heard from William lately?" asked Lois, with supreme effort.