"In the language of our great ally," he said, "Madame et Monsieur,
le diner est servi."

In his eyes there was not only tenderness but a somewhat emphasized
affection, as though he meant to demonstrate, not only to them but
to himself, that this new thing that had come to him did not touch
their old relationship. For the new thing had come. He was still
slightly dazed with the knowledge of it, and considerably anxious.
Because he had just taken a glance at himself in the mirror of the
walnut hat-rack, and had seen nothing there particularly to inspire
--well, to inspire what he wanted to inspire.

At the foot of the stairs he drew Lucy's arm through his, and held
her hand. She seemed very small and frail beside him.

"Some day," he said, "a strong wind will come along and carry off
Mrs. Lucy Crosby, and the Doctors Livingstone will be obliged
hurriedly to rent aeroplanes, and to search for her at various
elevations!"

David sat down and picked up the old fashioned carving knife.

"Get the clubs?" he inquired.

Dick looked almost stricken.

"I forgot them, David," he said guiltily. "Jim Wheeler went out
to look them up, and I--I'll go back after dinner."