The dinner progressed slowly, as it must if Mrs. Groves’ orders were followed, and Alex.’s impatience increased, and but for his mother he would have gone into the kitchen to see “why they were so infernally slow, and why they couldn’t bring and carry more than one thing at a time.” “It is hot here as a furnace, and we shan’t get through till dark. I’m going to tell her to hurry anyway,” he said. “Tell whom?” Amy asked, and he replied, “Why, Miss—what’s her name? You know.” “You mean No. 1,” Amy said, and Alex. replied: “No. 1 be hanged! That’s no name for a girl. She has another, of course. What is it? She told me. Fanny? Yes, Fanny! Pretty name, too, and there she comes with one plate of salad, where she might have brought two or three, and by George if there isn’t——” The rest of his sentence was a loud, “Sherry, you wretch! what are you doing here? Go back!” Every one in the room was startled, and no one as much as Sherry. She had seen the dog looking in at her from the kitchen door, but had no idea he was following her, and Alex.’s sharp outcry, “Sherry, you wretch!” unnerved her completely. She did not think of the dog, or that he was meant. It was herself. She had done something wrong, and every object in the room began to swim before her and the strength in her arms to leave her. There was a crash, and tray and salad were on the floor, with the dog sniffing at them, and Alex. was bending over the débris, his hair once touching Sherry’s as he picked up the tray and she the broken plate. “What is it?” he asked, looking at her white face. “I was so stupid,” she said, “and thought you meant me.” “You!” Alex. exclaimed, in surprise. “Why should you think that? It was the dog. Didn’t you know he was following you?” “No,” Sherry answered, and the “no” was like a sob, for she was very near crying. “Alex., do sit down and let the girl attend to her business,” Mrs. Marsh said, a little sharply, and Alex. sat down, while Sherry, more mortified than she had ever been in her life, took out the broken plate and resumed her duties, while a maid from the kitchen was sent to remove the salad from the floor. In spite of his master’s commands that he should “get out,” the dog stretched himself by the window, watching every move of Sherry, and occasionally putting out his big paw to touch her dress as she passed him, and once making a motion to follow her. But Alex. kept him down, and the long dinner came to an end just as the sun was dipping behind the high hills around Maplehurst, and shedding a few farewell rays on Mount Washington. The guests hurried to find a cool place on the piazzas or under the great maple, where there were seats around the trunk and chairs scattered over the rugs spread upon the ground.