Harry told me with the tears running down his cheeks.

It was dreadful--INEXCUSABLE--BARBAROUS! I've been that way myself--tumbled half-way down these same stairs before you were born and had to be put to bed, which accounts for the miserable scapegrace I am to-day." His face was in a broad smile, but his voice never wavered.
Kate looked at him and put out her hand.

"You never did--I won't believe a word of it." "Ask your father, my dear.

He helped carry me upstairs, and Ben pulled off my boots.

Oh, it was most disgraceful! I'm just beginning to live it down," and he reached over and patted the girl's cheek, his hearty laugh ringing through the room.
Kate was smiling now--her Uncle George was always irresistible when he was like this.
"But Harry isn't you," she pouted.
"ISN'T ME!--why I was ten times worse! He's only twenty-one and I was twenty-five.