My mischievous little cousin has been experimenting with my hairpins, without my knowing it. Please excuse me a minute.” And with flaming cheeks she fled to her room.

She was back almost immediately, but not before the gentlemen had enjoyed a hearty though smothered laugh, and Mr. Muir had inquired,—

“Is this a sample of the fine influence she has on small boys?”

The conversation was once more running smoothly, and Bess was just losing the recollection of her mortifying experience, when a little sound caught her ears, a light, stealthy footstep that cautiously advanced to the drawn portière, and then retreated. Five minutes later they all gave a sudden start of surprise, as the vigorous, clattering alarm attached to a noisy little nickel clock gradually unwound the entire length of its spring. It was difficult to talk away composedly, but Bess managed to do it; and while her guests were inwardly shaking over the too palpable hint, she was longing to give the boys an outward shaking for their annoying pranks.