himself was booked for a fishing-trip later. He did this under the
assumption that he was yielding to Riatt's irresistible eagerness. "You
have an excellent advocate in Christine. My daughter has always ruled me.
And now in my old age I am to lose her. I had a long letter from her by
the early mail, speaking of you in the highest terms." He smiled. Riatt
rose, and allowed him to return to the question of the club's wines.

Something about this interview was more shocking to him than the cynicism
of Nancy and Christine; Fenimer's suave eagerness to hand his daughter
over to a total stranger, did not amuse him as the women's light talk had
done. He felt sorry for Christine and a little disgusted. He wondered
what that letter had really said. Was Fenimer a conspirator, too, or only
a willing dupe?

From the club he went to the jeweler's and selected the most conspicuous
diamond he could find. Her friends should not miss the fact that she was
engaged if a solitaire could prove it to them. He ordered it sent to her,
much to the surprise of the clerk, who pointed out that it was usual to
present such things in person.

After this he went to his hotel and found a pile of letters had
accumulated in his absence.

The first he opened was in a round childish hand with uncertain margins,
and a final "e" on the word Hotel.

"Dear Cousin Max," it said, "I do not know you, but Mamma says that you
are going to marry Christine. I think you are very lucky, and am glad you
are bringing her into our family. Victor and I love her. She comes to the
nursery sometimes, but never stays long.