"I told you so. I told you that Mildred was a perfect Juno, and that you were very unfortunate to be out of town when she spent that week with me at the beach. As for Mrs. Van Tassel"—
"Why, she's an angel,—she's an angel! I knew it from her letter. I felt it in my bones."
"As if you knew anything about your bones, you dear old cushion. Stop praising those girls,—calling one a goddess and one an angel. Come and apostrophize the lake. Isn't it beautiful?"
"It was you who called Miss Bryant a goddess, remember. Yes, this is every bit as good as the ocean, for all I see," walking to the window and putting an arm around his wife's waist. "We are in great luck, Hilda," continued Page, glancing about their spacious room. "This isn't much like the discomforts we read about in connection with World's Fair visiting. I don't wonder," he added after a pause, "that Jack was cut up by being at cross purposes with those girls."
"H'm. There is one exhibit I have come out here to see that isn't inside the White City," returned Hilda. "I've come to discover which one of them Jack is in love with."
"Both, of course. How can he help it?" replied her husband promptly.
Gorham took it upon himself to launch his brother and sister on their Fair pilgrimage that very evening.
When they came home again, hours later, Clover and Jack were sitting alone in the parlor and rose to meet them as they entered the room. Their tired, excited faces were a study.
Hilda dropped into a chair. "Well," she exclaimed, "I never expected to go to heaven till I died; but I've been there."
"Jack," added Robert meekly, "get in your fine work now. I've nothing to say, absolutely nothing. I've dropped my jaw so often since six o'clock that it isn't in working order, any way."