Nobody. Warner Susan

exclamation, and the change of tone with it, seemed to be calledforth by the entrance of a new comer, even Tom Caruthers himself. Tomwas not in company trim exactly, but with his gloves in his hand andhis overcoat evidently just pulled off. He was surveying the companywith a contented expression; then came forward and began a series ofgreetings round the table; not hurrying them, but pausing here andthere for a little talk.

      "Tom!" cried his mother, "is that you?"

      "To command. Yes, Mrs. Badger, I am just off the cars. I did not knowwhat I should find here."

      "How did you get back so soon, Tom?"

      "Had nothing to keep me longer, ma'am. Miss Farrel, I have the honourto remind you of a phillipoena."

      There was a shout of laughter. It bewildered Lois, who could notunderstand what they were laughing about, and could as little keep herattention from following Tom's progress round the table. Miss Caruthersobserved this, and was annoyed.

      "Careless boy!" she said. "I don't believe he has done the half of whathe had to do, Tom, what brought you home?"

      Tom was by this time approaching them.

      "Is the question to be understood in a physical or moral sense?" saidhe.

      "As you understand it!" said his sister.

      Tom disregarded the question, and paid his respects to Miss Lothrop.Julia's jealous eyes saw more than the ordinary gay civility in hisface and manner.

      "Tom," she cried, "have you done everything? I don't believe you have."

      "Have, though," said Tom. And he offered to Lois a basket of bon-bons.

      "Did you see the carpenter?"

      "Saw him and gave him his orders."

      "Were the dogs well?"

      "I wish you had seen them bid me good morning!"

      "Did you look at the mare's foot?"

      "Yes."

      "What is the matter with it?"

      "Nothing – a nail – Miss Lothrop, you have no wine."

      "Nothing! and a nail!" cried Miss Julia as Lois covered her glass withher hand and forbade the wine. "As if a nail were not enough to ruin ahorse! O you careless boy! Miss Lothrop is more of a philosopher thanyou are. She drinks no wine."

      Tom passed on, speaking to other ladies. Lois had scarcely spoken atall; but Miss Caruthers thought she could discern a little stir in thesoft colour of the cheeks and a little additional life in the gravesoft eyes; and she wished Tom heartily at a distance.

      At a distance, however, he was no more that day. He made himselfgracefully busy indeed with the rest of his mother's guests; but afterthey quitted the table, he contrived to be at Lois's side, and asked ifshe would not like to see the greenhouse? It was a welcome proposition, and while nobody at the moment paid any attention to the two youngpeople, they passed out by a glass door at the other end of thedining-room into the conservatory, while the stream of guests went theother way. Then Lois was plunged in a wilderness of green leafage andbrilliant bloom, warm atmosphere and mixed perfume; her first breathwas an involuntary exclamation of delight and relief.

      "Ah! you like this better than the other room, don't you?" said Tom.

      Lois did not answer; however, she went with such an absorbed expressionfrom one plant to another, that Tom must needs conclude she liked thisbetter than the other company too.

      "I never saw such a beautiful greenhouse," she said at last, "nor solarge a one."

      "This is not much," replied Tom. "Most of our plants are in thecountry – where I have come from to-day; this is just a city affair.Shampuashuh don't cultivate exotics, then?"

      "O no! Nor anything much, except the needful."

      "That sounds rather – tiresome," said Tom.

      "O, it is not tiresome. One does not get tired of the needful, youknow."

      "Don't you! I do," said Tom. "Awfully. But what do you do forpleasure then, up there in Shampuashuh?"

      "Pleasure? O, we have it – I have it – But we do not spend much time inthe search of it. O how beautiful! what is that?"

      "It's got some long name – Metrosideros, I believe. What do you do forpleasure up there then, Miss Lothrop?"

      "Dig clams."

      "Clams!" cried Tom.

      "Yes. Long clams. It's great fun. But I find pleasure all over."

      "How come you to be such a philosopher?"

      "That is not philosophy."

      "What is it? I can tell you, there isn't a girl in New York that wouldsay what you have just said."

      Lois thought the faces around the lunch table had quite harmonized withthis statement. She forgot them again in a most luxuriant trailingPelargonium covered with large white blossoms of great elegance.

      "But it is philosophy that makes you not drink wine? Or don't you likeit?"

      "O no," said Lois, "it is not philosophy; it is humanity."

      "How? I think it is humanity to share in people's social pleasures."

      "If they were harmless."

      "This is harmless!"

      Lois shook her head. "To you, maybe."

      "And to you. Then why shouldn't we take it?"

      "For the sake of others, to whom it is not harmless."

      "They must look out for themselves."

      "Yes, and we must help them."

      "We can't help them. If a man hasn't strength enough to stand, youcannot hold him up."

      "O yes," said Lois gently, "you can and you must. That is not much todo! When on one side it is life, and on the other side it is only aminute's taste of something sweet, it is very little, I think, to giveup one for the other."

      "That is because you are so good," said Tom. "I am not so good."

      At this instant a voice was heard within, and sounds of the servantsremoving the lunch dishes.

      "I never heard anybody in my life talk as you do," Tom went on.

      Lois thought she had talked enough, and would say no more. Tom saw shewould not, and gave her glance after glance of admiration, which beganto grow into veneration. What a pure creature was this! what a gentlesimplicity, and yet what a quiet dignity! what absolutely naturalsweetness, with no airs whatever! and what a fresh beauty.

      "I think it must be easier to be good where you live," Tom addedpresently, and sincerely.

      "Why?" said Lois.

      "I assure you it ain't easy for a fellow here."

      "What do you mean by 'good,' Mr. Caruthers? not drinking wine?" said

      Lois, somewhat amused.

      "I mean, to be like you," said he softly. "You are better than all therest of us here."

      "I hope not. Mr. Caruthers, we must go back to Mrs. Wishart, orcertainly she will not think me good."

      So they went back, through the empty lunch room.

      "I thought you would be here to-day," said Tom. "I was not going tomiss the pleasure; so I took a frightfully early train, and despatchedbusiness faster than it had ever been despatched before, at our house.I surprised the people, almost as much as I surprised my mother andJulia. You ought always to wear a white camellia in your hair!"

      Lois smiled to herself. If he knew what things she had to do at her ownhome, and how such an adornment would be in place! Was it easier to begood there? she queried. It was easier to be pleased here. The guestswere mostly gone.

      "Well, my dear," said Mrs. Wishart on the drive home, "how have youenjoyed yourself?"

      Lois looked grave. "I am afraid it turns my head," she answered.

      "That shows your head is