mother, who had not been appealed to, merely looked distractedly across
the table at her children.

"Mr. Plumpton says he's coming down to see us off," said Lottie,
smoothing her napkin in her lap. "Do you know the time of day when the
boat sails, momma?"

"Yes," her brother broke in, "and if I had been momma I'd have boxed your
ears for the way you went on with him. You fairly teased him to come.
The way Lottie goes on with men is a shame, momma."

"What time does the boat sail, momma!" Lottie blandly persisted. "I
promised to let Mr. Plumpton know."

"Yes, so as to get a chance to write to him," said Boyne. "I guess when
he sees your spelling!"

"Momma! Do wake up! What time does our steamer sail?"

A light of consciousness came into Mrs. Renton's eyes at last, and she
sighed gently. "We're not going, Lottie."

"Not going! Why, but we've got the tickets, and I've told--"

"Your father has decided not to go, for the present. We may go later in
the summer, or perhaps in the fall."

Boyne looked at his father's troubled face, and said nothing, but Lottie
was not stayed from the expression of her feelings by any ill-timed
consideration for what her father's might be. "I just know," she fired,