Mr. Boffin came in, with a blue ribbon around his neck, and helped himself to Aunt Francesca's chair. Isabel rocked him and he got down, without undue haste. He marched over to a straight-backed chair with a cushion in it; glared at Isabel for a moment with his inscrutable topaz eyes, then began to purr.

The clock chimed seven silvery notes. Madame Bernard waved her white lace fan impatiently. "It's the psychological moment," Rose observed.

"Why don't they come?"

"It's Allison's fault, if they're late," Madame a.s.sured her. "I could always set my watch by the Colonel. He--there, what did I tell you?" she concluded triumphantly, as footsteps sounded outside.

When the guests were ushered in, Madame advanced to meet them. The firelight had brought a rosy glow to her lovely face, and her deep eyes smiled. Allison put his violin case in a corner before he spoke to her.

"Did you really?" asked Madame. "How kind you are!"

"I brought it," laughed the young man, "just because you didn't ask me to."

"Do you always," queried Rose, after he had been duly presented to her, "do the things you're not asked to do?"

"Invariably," he replied.

"Allison," said Madame, "I want you to meet my niece once removed--Miss Ross." The Colonel had already bowed to Isabel and was renewing his old acquaintance with Rose.

"Not Isabel," said Allison, in astonishment.

"Yes," answered the girl, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "it's Isabel."

"Why, little playmate, how did you ever dare to grow up?"

"I had nothing else to do." "But I didn't want you to grow up," he objected.

"You've grown up some yourself," she retorted.

"I suppose I have," he sighed. "What a pity that the clock won't stand still!"

Yet, to Madame, he did not seem to have changed much. He was taller, and more mature in every way, of course. She noted with satisfaction that he had gained control of his hands and feet, but he had the same boyish face, the same square, well-moulded chin, and the same nice brown eyes.

Only his slender, nervous hands betrayed the violinist.

"Well, are you pleased with me?" he asked of Madame, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes," she answered with a faint flush. "If you had worn long hair and a velvet collar, I should never have forgiven you."

Colonel Kent laughed outright. "I should never have dared to bring him back to you, Francesca, if he had fallen so low. We're Americans, and please G.o.d, we'll stay Americans, won't we, lad?"

"You bet," answered Allison, boyishly, going over to salute Mr. Boffin.

"'But in spite of all temptations to belong to other nations, I'm an Am- er-i-can,'" he sang, under his breath. Through the mysterious workings of some sixth sense, Mr. Boffin perceived approaching trouble and made a hurried escape.

"Will you look at that?" asked Allison, with a hearty laugh. "I hadn't even touched him and he became suspicious of me."

"As I remember," Madame said, "my cats never got on very well with you."

"I don't like them either," put in Isabel.

"I like 'em," Allison said. "I like 'em a whole lot, but it isn't mutual, and I never could understand why."

At dinner, it seemed as though they all talked at once. Madame and the Colonel had a separate conversation of their own, while Allison "reminisced" with Isabel, as he said, and asked numerous questions of Rose in regard to the neighbours.

"Please tell me," he said, "what has become of the Crosby twins?"

"They're flourishing," Rose answered.

"You don't mean it! What little devils they were!"

"Are," corrected Rose.

"Who are the Crosby twins?" inquired Isabel.

"They'll probably call on you," Rose replied, "so I won't spoil it by endeavouring to describe them. The language fails to do them justice."

"What were their names?" mused Allison. "Let me see. Oh, yes, Romeo and Juliet."

"'Romie' and 'Jule' by affectionate abbreviation, to each other," Rose added. Did you know that an uncle died in Australia and left them a small fortune ?"

"No, I didn't. What are they doing with it?"

"Do you remember, when you were a child, how you used to plan what you'd do with unlimited wealth?"

Allison nodded.

"Well," Rose resumed, "that's just what they're doing with it. They have only the income now, but this Fall, when they're twenty-one, they'll come into possession of the princ.i.p.al. I prophesy bankruptcy in five years."

"Even so," he smiled, "they'll doubtless have pleasant memories."

"What satisfaction do you think there will be in that?" queried Isabel.

"I can't answer just now," Allison replied, "but the minute I'm bankrupt, I'll come and tell you. It's likely to happen to me at any time."

Meanwhile Colonel Kent was expressing the pleasure he had found in his well-appointed household. "Was it very much trouble, Francesca?"

"None at all--to me."

"You always were wonderful."

"You see," she smiled, "I didn't do it. Rose did everything. I merely went over at the last to arrange the flowers, make the tea, and receive the credit."

"And to welcome us home," he added. "They say a fireplace is the heart of a house, but I think a woman is the soul of it."

"Then the soul of it was there, waiting, wasn't it?"

"But only for a little while," he sighed. "I am very lonely sometimes, in spite of the boy."

Francesca's blue eyes became misty. "When a door in your heart is closed," she said, "turn the key and go away. Opening it only brings pain."