"Whew! I can see that I'm popular in the home circle, Norma!" Acton said, leaning over the big davenport to kiss his wife. "How's my baby? All right, dear, anything you say goes! I was going to cancel the game, anyway. Look what Chris brought you, Cutey-cute! Say, Norma, has she been getting herself tired?" Leslie, instantly mollified, drew his cold, firm cheek against hers, and looked sidewise toward Norma. "Isn't he the nice, big, comfy man to come home to his mad little old wife?" she mumbled, luxuriously. "Yes," Acton grumbled, still half embracing her, "but you didn't talk that way at breakfast, you little devil!" "Am I a devil?" Leslie asked, lazily. And looking in whimsical penitence at Norma, she added, "I _am_ a devil. But you were just as mean as you could be," she told him, widening her eyes and shaking her head. "I know it. I felt like a dog, walking down town," her husband admitted promptly. "I tried to telephone but you weren't here!" "I was at Aunt Annie's," Leslie said, softly. Her husband had slipped in beside her on the wide davenport, and she was resting against his shoulder, and idly kissing the little rebel lock of hair that fell across one temple. "He's a pretty nice old husband!" she murmured, contentedly. "And she's a pretty nice little wife, if she did call me some mean names!" Acton returned, kissing the top of her head without altering her position. Norma looked at them with smiling contempt. "You're a great pair!" she conceded, indulgently. Leslie now was free to examine, with a flush and a laugh, the microscopic pair of beaded Indian moccasins that Chris had brought from Florida. Norma asked about Chris. "Oh, he's fine," Acton answered, "looks brown and hard; he had a gorgeous time! He said he might be round to see Grandma to-morrow morning!" "I'll tell her," Norma said, getting up to go. She left them still clinging together, like a pair of little love-birds, with peace fully restored for the time being. Mrs. Melrose's car had been waiting for some time, and she was whirled home through the dark and wintry streets without the loss of a second. Lights were lighted everywhere now, and tempered radiance filled the old hall as she entered it. It was just six o'clock, but Norma knew that she and the old lady were to be alone to-night, and she went through the long drawing-room to the library beyond it, thinking she might find her still lingering over the teacups. Dinner under these circumstances was usually at seven, and frequently Mrs. Melrose did not change her gown for it. There was lamplight in the library, but the old lady's chair was empty, and the tea table had been cleared away. Norma, supposing the room unoccupied, gave a little gasp of surprise and pleasure as Chris suddenly got to his feet among the shadows.