"I suppose we shall have to ask her," Aunt Bella said, finally; and Clara asked, timidly, "Is her name Connett, or is she married?" People who were married had not been very welcome in that house.

"No, thank goodness, she doesn't seem to have a husband. It's just signed Olga V. Connett. Well, we've got to have her, I guess, for I visited Jane, you remember, after we left school. Dear me, I hope she's been well brought up. As I recollect that Southern household, there was a good deal in it to be improved upon.'

It was not until the actual day of her arrival that Robert began to take a personal interest in this Olga Connett, and then it was with a feeling of resent

ment that he awaited her coming, since it meant his Sunday clothes and the putting away of the cherished timetables, which could not litter up the place, Aunt Bella said, when company came. Of course it was rather nice to know they were going to have ice-cream for supper-and he even began to feel a little excited when the old depot cab drove in at the gate. He never had seen that before, for they were too near the station, it was thought, to indulge in any such extravagance.

He remembered afterward how still the house had seemed as they waited, no one speaking, only the old clock in the hall tick, tick, ticking-and then She stepped into the doorway! Nobody noticed the sound of the clock after that, for there was such chatter and jolly laughter that it almost made Aunt Bella smile. But not quite for already she was aware that the bags and wraps had been piled upon the parlor table regardless of ancestral photographs, that one corner of the rug was turned up and a large bunch of moist flowers dripping on the plush lambrequin.

Having taken in her surroundings at one glance when she entered, Olga was perfectly prepared for the bedroom into which she was now ushered, with its heavy set of walnut furniture with marble tops, and walls covered with leftover pictures from other parts of the house. There were the usual things labeled or embroidered Matches, Combings, and Laundry; they always made Olga long to put her stray hairs into the soiled linen bag and the burnt. matches into the comb-box; and, truth to tell, this is just what she often did, but fortunately her hostess did not know it-yet.

She was late for supper an unheard-of offense in this house-because when she had half unpacked her bag she came across a magazine she had been reading in the train, and stopped long enough to finish the story. When she finally walked into the sittingroom Robert nearly fell off his chair, for it was the first time he had ever seen any one in evening dress.

unconscious of Miss Bella's frown, said cheerfully:

"Hello, Bobbie, do you sit up for dinner?"

"My name is Robert," he answered, primly.

Not that the very simple gown, a little low in the neck, could properly come under that heading, but it was pink and it was fluffy, and somehow it didn't look like anything his aunts ever wore. He fully expected to hear the visitor scolded for keeping them waiting, but evidently that young lady was used to having people wait for her, because she only gave a most perfunctory apology and,

"Robert has no knife, Olga. I do not believe in boys having them; they always injure themselves or something else if they do, and Robert understands that in cutting himself it would give trouble to others."

For a moment the young girl could not believe her ears; then, taking up the precious pearl-handled company knife which was beside her plate, she snapped the string with a vicious cut and silently handed over a box of chocolates to the wide-eyed little boy.

"Say thank you,' Robert, and put

them away until another time; you must not eat candy at night."

This seemed like rather a gloomy beginning, but next day things improved somewhat, for he and Olga had the most wonderful walk together, she insisting that he did not need rubbers; and most marvelously she had her way-without putting Aunt Bella in such a very bad humor, either.

He would have liked to ask her how she did it; he knew he could laugh and crinkle up his eyes just as she did, but he doubted that he could put his arm round his aunt and give her that funny little squeeze; but he was willing to try even this if it brought about such surprising results.

"Take your umbrellas; it looks stormy," was the last injunction, yet he was hurried off without them.

"I hate carrying umbrellas and things; don't you, Bobolink? Let's chance it, anyway.

"Why does Aunt Bella always think it's going to rain?" he asked as he took her hand, held firmly, he felt, and not by a slipping two fingers.

"Does she?" smiled Olga. "Well, perhaps she wears blue glasses.'

"Only when the sun's on the snow,' he said, seriously.

What a walk that was! Different from any he had ever known before; no pulling him past the store windows in the village where there were so many fascinating things to see, no insistent "hurry" when he lagged behind to watch a squirrel walk the trolley wire, and always a ready answer to the dozens of questions he loved to ask. She even stood before the torn and weatherstained circus posters and discussed their delights quite leisurely.

"Have you ever been to a circus?" she asked, suddenly.

"Only to a dead one." And seeing her puzzled expression, he explained that he had once been taken to a place where they had stuffed animals in glass cases -Aunt Bella had thought it would be "instructive."

"Well, we'll go some day, for fun and nothing else. I just love it myself, and if I had a real boy with me it would be great. She laughed into his upturned face. "I'm 'most as young as

you are.

Let me see, just how old are

you, Bobby?" "Seven-but a big seven, I guess, 'cause I wear eight-year ready-mades,' he answered, proudly. He had been told not to inquire into the interesting subject of grown people's ages, but he made a compromise with his conscience.

"What size ready mades do you wear?" he asked.

"Why, listen to the scamp of a boy! He wants to know how old I am. Guess?" "Forty?" "What!""

"Aren't you?"

"Just half that-Impudence." She watched him carefully calculating.

"Well, twenty's pretty old, isn't it?" "Yes, I suppose it seems so to seven,' she said, meekly. Presently she asked: "Robert, do you know what you'd like to be when you grow up?"

There was a slight pause while he seemed to give the question serious attention. "A minister, I guess," he said, and glanced up for her approval. Heavens! had they made him a goodygoody!

"You see, I like to talk, and ministers can; nobody ever tells them to keep still when they preach, and sometimes I get tired of being seen and not heard."

With her strong young arms she lifted him to her face and kissed him-immediately apologizing.

"Honestly, I don't think any one saw us, Bobbin, so you needn't mind. I won't do it again unless you say so.'

66

'Maybe, sometime I'd let you—at night in the dark when I go to bed." 'All right, old man; I'll remember. Do you mind going to bed in the dark? I did, fearfully."

"Not now, I don't, but when I was little I did."

The rain came later in the day, but Robert did not mind a rainy afternoon with this delightful playmate in the house. She had told the aunts they would make too much noise to stay down-stairs. "We're going to giggle, aren't we, Bobtail, and do all sorts of silly things, so I think my room's the best place for these two infants"-so now there they were, the box of chocolates in some mysterious way up with them too. At Olga's daring to seat her