Old Rose and Silver

Colonel Kent and Allison critically surveyed the table, where covers were laid for seven. "Someway it lacks the 'grand air' of Madame Bernard's," commented the Colonel, "yet I can't see anything wrong, can you?"

"Not a thing," Allison returned. "The 'grand air' you allude to comes, I think, from Aunt Francesca herself. When she takes her place opposite you, I'm sure we shall compare very favourably with our neighbours."

The Crosby twins arrived first, having chartered the station hack for the evening. As the minds of both were above such minor details as clothes, their attire was of the nondescript variety, but their exuberant youth and high spirits gallantly concealed all defects and the tact of their hosts quickly set them both at their ease.

Romeo somewhat ostentatiously left their card upon the mantel, so placed that all who came near might read in fashionable script: "The Crosby Twins." Having made this concession to the conventionalities, he lapsed at once into an agreeable informality that amused the Colonel very much.

Soon the Colonel was describing some of the great battles in which he had taken part, and Romeo listened with an eager interest which was all the more flattering because it was so evidently sincere. In the library, meanwhile, Allison was renewing his old acquaintance with Juliet.

"You used to be a perfect little devil," he smiled.

"I am yet," Juliet admitted, with a frank laugh. "At least people say so. Romie and I aren't popular with our neighbours."

"That doesn't speak well for the neighbours. Were they never young themselves?"

"I don't believe so. I've thought, sometimes, that lots of people were born grown-up."

"They say abroad, that there are no children in America--that they are merely little people treated like grown-ups."

"The modern American child is a horror," said Juliet, unconsciously quoting from an article in a recent magazine. "They're ill bred and they don't mind, and there's nobody who wants to make 'em mind except people who have no authority to do it."

"Why is it?" inquired Allison, secretly amused.

"Because spanking has gone out of fashion," she answered, in all seriousness. "It takes so much longer for moral suasion to work. Romie and I never had any 'moral suasion,'--we were brought up right."

Juliet's tone indicated a deep filial respect for her departed parents and there was a faraway look in her blue eyes which filled Allison with tender pity.

"You must be lonely sometimes," he said, kindly.

"Lonely?" repeated Juliet in astonishment; "why, how could I ever be lonely with Romie?"

"Of course you couldn't be lonely when he was there, but you must miss him when he's away from you."