"Suppose you had another fire. What a fright you must have had, Miss Rothermel! It must have been quite an experience. And so droll. I suppose there is always a droll side to things, if one has the ability to see it. Mr. Andrews has told me all about it. Don't you think he has a strong sense of humor, Miss Rothermel?" Miss Flora's face expressed great amusement at the recollection of something connected with the fire. She repeated her question, which Missy had not answered. "He is so very quiet, one wouldn't suspect him of it, but don't you think he has a keen sense of the ridiculous?" "I have never thought of it," said Missy. "I should rather have said not. But of course you know him best." "I've always threatened to ask you some questions about the fire," she continued, with merriment in her eyes. "But he made me promise not." "Then I don't see that I can help you," Miss Rothermel said. "I shall be anxious to know how you get out of the next fire, without Mr. Andrews here to see to it." "I hope we sha'n't have another fire; but if we do, we shall miss Mr. Andrews, I am sure, for he was most kind in every way. But it is possible that we may not be alone; my brother may spend the winter with us; he is coming home this autumn." "Your brother? Is it possible? That is the young--the young--monk, that I've heard them talking of." "Yes." "Oh, then I am almost sorry that we're going away. I had such a curiosity to see him. Probably you don't know, but I take the greatest interest in the Catholic movement." "I certainly had not suspected it." "Oh, dear Miss Rothermel, how sarcastically you said that. I find Mr. Andrews was right about that "keen, sarcastic levity of tongue, The stinging of a heart the world hath stung." "Papa said that about old Mr. Vanderveer; it wasn't about Missy," put in Gabrielle again, and this time she didn't get a kiss for it. "You are a very pert little girl," said Flora, withdrawing her arm, "and would be the better for a year or two of boarding-school." Gabrielle gave a frightened look at Missy, and dropped her eyes. At this moment Jay, on the other side of the room, pulled over a stand of flowers, and in consequence of the noise and alarm, began to cry. Missy ran to him, and putting her arms around him, whispered that he needn't care about the flowers, that if he'd give her a dear kiss and be her own little boy again, she'd like it better than all the flowers in America. This comforted him, and he consented to dry his eyes, and accompany her to the dining-room, to look for cake on a shelf which he knew of old. Missy did not hurry to take him back, and they had an old-time talk, and a great many kisses and promises. He was quite like himself when he was away from his cousins. "You'll be a big boy when I see you again, Jay," she said, "and you'll have forgotten all about me when you come back from over the water."