MISTRESS OF HER HOUSE But at just this moment there was a smart rap at the library door, it was partly opened, and a cheery masculine voice called out:-- "May I come in, mother ?" "You, Jack.

You may," was the somewhat eager response from Mrs.De Peyster.
The door swung entirely open, Miss Gardner stepped out, and there entered a young man of twenty-two or three, good-natured confidence in his manner, flawlessly dressed, with hands that were swathed in bandages.

He crossed limpingly to Mrs.De Peyster, who, her affection now under control, stood regarding him with reproving and sternly questioning eyes.
"Good-morning, mother,--glad to get back," he said, imprinting an undaunted kiss upon her stately cheek.
Her reply was a continuance of her reproving look.

The young man turned to Mrs.De Peyster's faithful satellite.
"Hello, Olivetta.

Hands out of commission.