and called back softly through the darkness:

“Good-night, little Lois!”

“Good-night, and sweet dreams, Euan. I will be dressed and waiting for you in the morning to go to Mrs. Bleecker, or to receive her as you and she think fitting� . Is there a looking glass in that same wonder-box?”

“Two, Lois.”

“You dear and generous lad!� And are there hair-pegs? Heaven knows if my clipped poll will hold them. Anyway, I can powder and patch, and — oh, Euan! Is there lip-red and curd-lily lotion for the skin? Not that I shall love you any less if there be none — — ”

“I bespoke of Mr. Hake,” said I, laughing, “a