"Here's the tack-hammer, Hippy, and don't fall off the ladder, please," cautioned Grace, as she assisted Hippy Wingate to tack up an evergreen garland in Mrs. Gray's drawing room.

Not in twenty years had the old house taken on such holiday attire. Great bunches of holly and cedar filled the vases and bowls and decorated the chandeliers. Fires blazed on every hearth and the warm glow from many candles and shaded lamps brightened the fine old rooms.

"My dear young people," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, coming in just then, "how happy you make me feel! I do wish you were all really my children and could forever stay just the ages you are now."

"This house would be like the palace of everlasting youth, then, wouldn't it, Mrs. Gray?" suggested Anne.

"Until some meddlesome little Pandora came along, opened the box and let all the troubles out," interposed David, who was still feeling very bitter toward his sister Miriam, and glad to leave home for a time until his anger had cooled.

"Ah, well, we have no Pandoras here," answered Mrs. Gray, smiling on the young guests. "You are all girls and boys after my own heart, and I trust we shall have a beautiful time together. But here comes that nephew of mine, Tom Gray. I wonder if he's grown out of all recollection."

While she was speaking one of the town hacks had driven up to the steps, and there was a violent ring at the bell.

"Mr. Thomas Gray," announced the old butler at the door and Tom Gray, who had been the subject of endless speculation and conjecture, entered the room.

"If he turns out to be disagreeable or stupid or anything," the girls had been whispering, "it would be such a pity because everybody else is so nice."

Neither had the boys felt inclined to be prepossessed in Tom Gray's favor. He was a stranger, from New York, older than themselves and in college.

"I wish he wasn't going to butt in with his city manners," Reddy Brooks was thinking regretfully. "He is sure to have a swelled head and try to boss the crowd."

They had pictured him as a sort of dandy, with needle-toed patent leather shoes and a coat cut in at the waist and padded over the shoulders.

Even David had voiced a few thoughts on the subject of Tom Gray.

"I'll bet he's an English dude," he said. For Mrs. Gray's nephew had spent most of his life in England. "He'll probably carry a cane and wear a monocle."

They were not surprised, therefore, when a young man entered the room who bore out somewhat the picture they had conjured. He was tall and slender, very dapper and rather ladylike in his bearing. His alert, dark eyes were set too close together, and his face had a narrow, sinister look that made them all feel uncomfortable. He spoke with a decided English accent, in a light, flippant voice which sent a quiver of dislike up and down David's spine, and made Reddy Brooks give his right arm a vigorous twirl as if he would have liked to pitch something at the young man's head.

Mrs. Gray was the most surprised person in the room. It must be remembered that she had not seen her nephew since he was a child, and she had hoped for better things than this. However, always the most courteous and loyal of souls, she now made the best of the situation and greeted the newcomer cordially, though she did not bestow upon him the motherly kiss she had been saving.

Tom Gray bowed low over his aunt's hand.

"You are so much changed, Tom; I should hardly have known you," exclaimed the old lady, trying to conceal her disappointment and dismay. "England has weaned you away from your own country. You look as if you had just stepped out of Piccadilly."

"And so I have, aunt," replied the young man, using a very broad "a." "I have been in this country only a few months. England is the only place in the world for me, you know. I can't bear America."

Hippy Wingate gave himself an angry shake, which made all the ornaments on the mantelpiece rattle ominously.

"You must let me introduce you to my young friends, Tom," said Mrs. Gray, changing the subject quickly.

The introductions having been accomplished, she took his arm and led the way back to dinner.

"Do you think we can stand him for a week?" whispered David to Grace, as they followed down the hall.

"We'll have to," replied Grace, "or hurt Mrs. Gray's feelings. But isn't he the limit?"

"Asinine dandy!" hissed Hippy.

"I knew he'd be a Miss Nancy," exclaimed Reddy.

The girls did not express their disappointment, but as the meal progressed the conversation was strained and stupid.

"How did you leave your cousins in England, Tom?" asked Mrs. Gray, trying to keep the ball rolling and inwardly wishing she had never asked her nephew down.

"Quite well, thank you, aunt," replied Thomas Gray. "I expect to leave this beastly country and join them very soon."

"Indeed?" answered Mrs. Gray, flushing and with difficulty keeping back the tears of disappointment. To think a nephew of hers could have turned out like this!

"Do you play football?" demanded Hippy abruptly.

"Really, I don't care for the game," answered Thomas. "It's awfully rough, don't you know."

"Perhaps you prefer baseball?" suggested Grace.

"No," continued the young man, "I can't say I do. The truth is, I don't like outdoor games at all."

"What do you like, then?" demanded Nora, giving him a glance of ineffable scorn.

"I like afternoon tea," he answered, "and bridge."

Reddy almost groaned aloud, but he remembered his manners and choked his outburst of disgust.

"It is a pity," said Tom's aunt, turning her nearsighted blue eyes on him in amazement and displeasure. "Our Oakdale boys are all athletes. Even David here, the scholar and inventor, I'll venture to say, knows football and baseball as well as his friends."

"I'm not much of an inventor, Mrs. Gray," protested David. "You know my airship tumbled down before it got half way across the gym. But I shall never lose hope."

"Ah, airships?" exclaimed Thomas Gray, and deliberately taking a monocle from his pocket, he stuck it in his eye and stared at David, who choked and sputtered in his glass of water, while Hippy dropped a fork that fell on his plate with a great clatter.

Mrs. Gray raised her lorgnette and looked at her nephew.

"Thomas," she said sternly, "don't wear that thing here. It's not the custom in this town or in this country, for that matter. If you are nearsighted, buy yourself a pair of spectacles."

"Certainly, aunt, certainly; it shall be as you wish," replied Thomas, without a tinge of embarrassment. "I am so unused to America, you know."

Then Nora relieved the painful situation by laughing. She was taken with the giggles and she laughed till the tears rolled down her cheeks. The others laughed, too, even Mrs. Gray, who felt that she might give way to hysterics at any moment.

After dinner Thomas Gray detained his aunt in another room, while the girls and boys returned to the parlor. The two were closeted together for some time, and when they finally appeared, Mrs. Gray looked strangely flushed and nervous. But there was a smile on her nephew's thin lips and a dangerous flicker in his crafty eyes.

"I'll stake my last cent he's been getting money out of his poor little aunty," said David to Grace. "He's just the kind to do it."

"Poor Mrs. Gray!" exclaimed Grace. "I am so sorry for her. You can't think how she's been planning this party for months. Why did she ever ask down that wretch of a nephew? David, do try and make friends with him. Maybe there's something good in him after all, and it will help things along if Mrs. Gray feels that we want to like him."

"All right," promised David. "It goes against my grain to talk with a Miss Nancy dandy like that. It gives me a feeling in my chest like indigestion and bronchitis combined—but I'll make the effort."

So he went over and joined the Anglo-American, and began to talk with him in an easy, friendly sort of way.

"Won't you come over by the fire," he said. "I think we are going to play some games the girls have planned."

"Thanks, no," said the other, stifling a yawn. "I think I'll retire. I've had a long journey and I'm awfully knocked out. By the way, old chap," he continued, coming closer to David and whispering in his ear, which made that sensitive young man draw back with a quiver of dislike, "you couldn't favor me with a few dollars, could you? I left my check book in my portmanteau, which is still on the way and I find I haven't a cent. I'll return it to-morrow."

David regarded him with amazement. Here was a man whom he had met only an hour before, already trying to borrow money from him. Schoolboys are not likely to have money about them, but David did happen to have five dollars in his pocket.

"Certainly," was all he said, as he handed over the money.

The transaction had only taken a moment and when David drew out the five dollar bill, he was careful not to let anyone see him do it. However, Mrs. Gray, who had been out of the room, returned at the very moment the money was changing hands. In a flash she saw what her nephew had done. Without stopping to think she made straight for the two young men.

"Tom Gray," she said, speaking too low for anyone except her nephew and David to hear, "how dare you ask me for money and then borrow from one of my guests? You are a disgrace to your father, and to the name of Gray! I am ashamed of you and I command you to give that money back to David instantly."

Tom Gray was as angry as his aunt. His face went from red to white, and he looked as if he would like to break a vase or tear something to pieces.

"'Eavens, awnt, don't make a scene. I wouldn't a' awsked 'im, h'if I 'adn't needed more money. I'll pay him to-morrow."

Mrs. Gray and David were too surprised to speak. It was plain that, when Tom Gray was angry, he dropped his h's.

David looked at him curiously, then he drew the old lady's arm through his.

"Don't bother, Mrs. Gray," he said. "It was only a small loan, and I was glad to be of service. I believe Mr. Gray wants to go to bed now. He just said he was very tired. Shall I take him up?"

"If you will," replied Mrs. Gray, quieting down. "His room is next yours, David. Will you show him the way?"

"Young people," she said, going across to the boys and girls, who had gathered around the fire and were laughing and talking in low voices, "would you mind if we all went up early to-night? I feel a little out of sorts—bewildered—I don't know what. Children change so as they grow up," she added, sighing.

The poor old lady's eyes filled with tears. She slipped her arm around Anne's waist.

"You will never change, my dear boys and girls. You will all grow into fine men and women, I feel certain, and be devoted citizens of this splendid country of ours, which has always been good enough for our mothers and fathers, and ought to be quite good enough for us."

"Three cheers for America!" cried Hippy Wingate, giving his plump figure a twist like a whirling dervish.

Mrs. Gray laughed.

"Yes, indeed, my dears, America is a splendid country and every American should be proud to say so."

"And Oakdale is one of the nicest places in America," piped up Anne.

"Hurrah for Oakdale!" cried Hippy again.

"And Oakdale High School!" added Anne.

"And hurrah for the sponsor of the freshman class!" exclaimed Grace.

Whereupon they formed a circle, with Mrs. Gray in the middle, and danced about her laughing and singing:

"Hurrah for Mrs. Gray!"

The pretty, little old lady beamed happily upon her adopted family, as she called them.

"My darling children!" she cried. "Kiss me good night, every one of you, and we'll all go up to our beds."