"Is there a concert?" he asked, surprised.

"Why, didn't you hear us talking at dinner? The Elks, you know."

"Well--sure! I meant to go to that. I forgot it was to-night," he
said, with his lazy smile. "I came home all in, forgot everything."

"Oh, come,!" Margaret urged, as eagerly as Rebecca ever did.
"It's early, Bruce, come on! You don't have to shave! We'll
hold a seat,--come on!"

"Sure, I will!" he said, suddenly roused. The magazines rapped on the
floor, and Margaret had barely shut the door behind her when she heard
his bare feet follow them.

It was like old times to sit next to him through the hot merry
evening, while Rebecca glowed like a little rose among her friends,
and the smaller boys tickled her ear with their whispered comments.
Margaret had sent a telegram to Professor Tenison, and felt relieved
that at least that strain was spared her. She even danced with Bruce
after the concert, and with one or two old friends.

Afterwards, they strolled back slowly through the inky summer dark,
finding the house hot and close when they came in. Margaret went
upstairs, hearing her mother's apologetic, "Oh, Dad, why didn't I give
you back your club?" as she passed the dining-room door. She knew
Mother hated whist, and wondered rather irritably why she played it.
The Paget family was slow to settle down. Robert became tearful and
whining before he was finally bumped protesting into bed. Theodore and