up yesterday?"

What else had this precocious brain ferreted out?

"Yes, and that's why you bought papa a new necktie," continued the
tormenter; and then she added, triumphantly, "_But he hasn't put it on
this morning, ha--Gerty?_"

A calm and dignified silence is the best answer to the fiendishness of
thirteen. Miss White went on with the making of the salad-dressing. She
was considered very clever at it. Her father had taught her: but he
never had the patience to carry out his own precepts. Besides, brute
force is not wanted for the work: what you want is the self-denying
assiduity and the dexterous light-handedness of a woman.

A smart young maid-servant, very trimly dressed, made her appearance.

"Sir Keith Macleod, miss," said she.

"Oh, Gerty, you're caught!" muttered the fiend.

But Miss White was equal to the occasion. The small white fingers plied
the fork without a tremor.

"Ask him to step this way, please," she said.

And then the subtle imagination of this demon of thirteen jumped to
another conclusion.

"Oh, Gerty, you want to show him that you are a good housekeeper--that