Master Stanford fled to the safe shelter of the library where Carroll, ensconced on Mr. Hickey's knee, was being soothed with various emollients and lotions at the hands of Miss Tripp. "I should never have known what to do," she said, looking up from her ministrations to find Mr. Hickey's eyes fixed full upon her. "How could you think so quickly?" "Because I tried it myself once upon a time," said Mr. Hickey. "It's about the only way to learn things," he added somewhat grimly. "But I wish our young friend had taken another day for improving his knowledge on the subject of the prehensile powers of iron when applied to a moist surface on a cold day." For some reason or other he felt very much neglected and correspondingly out of temper as Miss Tripp ministered to the numerous wants of her small charges during the half hour that followed. To be sure she poured him a cup of tea (which he detested) and pressed small frosted cakes upon him with the sweetest of abstracted smiles. "I must go at once," he bethought himself, as he refused a second cup. "I--er--shall be late to my dinner." But he lingered gloomily while she cheered the afflicted Carroll with warm milk well sweetened with sugar. "You'll find some--some feathers in a box in the hall," he informed her, when he finally took his leave. "I wanted to tell you that I--er--regretted exceedingly that I had injured yours with my umbrella on the day we were to have lunched together and--didn't." Miss Tripp took the cerise plumes out of their wrappings and examined them in the blissful security of her own room--this after the Brewster children had gone home and the Stanford children were at last in bed and safely asleep. "How-extraordinary!" she murmured, her cheeks reflecting palely the vivid tints of the latest importation from Paris. XVII