“If Prince likes any billiard-playing boy better than Archie, I don’t think much of his sense,” she said severely.

“Of course he doesn’t; but, you see, Charlie and Arch are both as proud as they can be, and won’t give in. I suppose Arch is right, but I don’t blame Charlie a bit for liking to be with the others sometimes, they are such a jolly set,” and Steve shook his head morally, even while his eye twinkled over the memory of some of the exploits of the “jolly set.”

“Oh, dear me!” sighed Rose, “I don’t see what I can do about it, but I wish the boys would make up, for Prince can’t come to any harm with Archie, he’s so good and sensible.”

“That’s the trouble; Arch preaches, and Prince won’t stand it. He told Arch he was a prig and a parson, and Arch told him he wasn’t a gentleman. My boots! weren’t they both mad, though! I thought for a minute they’d pitch into one another and have it out. Wish they had, and not gone stalking round stiff and glum ever since. Mac and I settle our rows with a bat or so over the head, and then we are all right.”

Rose couldn’t help laughing as Steve sparred away at a fat sofa-pillow, to illustrate his meaning; and, having given it several scientific whacks, he pulled down his cuffs and smiled upon her with benign pity for her feminine ignorance of this summary way of settling a quarrel.

“What droll things boys are!” she said, with a mixture of admiration and perplexity in her face, which Steve accepted as a compliment to his sex.

“We’re a pretty clever invention, miss, and you can’t get on without us,” he answered, with his nose in the air. Then, taking a sudden plunge into business, he added, “How about that bit of money you were going to lend me? I’ve told, now you pay up.”

“Of course I will! How much do you want?” and Rose pulled out her purse.

“Could you spare five dollars? I want to pay a little debt of honour that is rather pressing,” and Steve put on a mannish air that was comical to see.

“Aren’t all debts honourable?” asked innocent Rose.

“Yes, of course; but this is a bet I made, and it ought to be settled up at once,” began Steve, finding it awkward to explain.

“Oh, don’t bet, it’s not right, and I know your father wouldn’t like it. Promise you won’t do so again; please promise!” and Rose held fast the hand into which she had just put the money.

“Well, I won’t. It’s worried me a good deal, but I was joked into it. Much obliged, cousin, I’m all right now,” and Steve departed hastily.

Having decided to be a peace-maker, Rose waited for an opportunity, and very soon it came.

She was spending the day with Aunt Clara, who had been entertaining some young guests, and invited Rose to meet them, for she thought it high time her niece conquered her bashfulness and saw a little of society. Dinner was over, and everyone had gone. Aunt Clara was resting before going out to an evening party, and Rose was waiting for Charlie to come and take her home.

She sat alone in the elegant drawing-room, feeling particularly nice and pretty, for she had her best frock on, a pair of gold bands her aunt had just given her, and a tea-rose bud in her sash, like the beautiful Miss Van Tassel, whom everyone admired. She had spread out her little skirts to the best advantage, and, leaning back in a luxurious chair, sat admiring her own feet in new slippers with rosettes almost as big as dahlias. Presently Charlie came lounging in, looking rather sleepy and queer, Rose thought. On seeing her, however, he roused up and said with a smile that ended in a gape—