marble fireplace. Payson and Wherry hurriedly pushed back their
chairs. Then, suddenly conscious of a rustle in the doorway, they all
turned.

Wide dark eyes flashing with contempt, Diane Westfall stood motionless
upon the threshold. The aesthete in Carl thrilled irresistibly to her
vivid beauty, intensified to-night by the angry flame in her cheeks and
the curling scarlet of her lips. There were no semi-tones in Diane's
dark beauty, Carl reflected. It was a thing of sable and scarlet, and
the gold-brown satin of her gypsy skin was warm with the tints of an
autumn forest. Carelessly at his ease, Carl noted how the bold eyes of
the painted Spanish grandee above the mantel, the mild eyes of the
saint in the Tintoretto panel across the room and the flashing eyes of
Diane seemed oddly to converge to a common center which was Starrett,
white and ill at ease. And of these the eyes of Diane were loveliest.

With the swift grace which to Carl's eyes always bore in it something
of the primitive, Diane swept away, and the staring tableau dissolved
into a trio of discomfited men of whom Carl seemed But an indifferent
onlooker.

"Well," fumed Starrett irritably, "why in thunder don't you say
something?"

"Permit me," drawled Carl impudently, with a lazy flicker of his
lashes, "to apologize for my cousin's untimely intrusion. I really
fancied she was safe at the farm. Unfortunately, the house belongs to
her. Besides, your crystal gymnastics, Starrett, were as unscheduled
as her arrival. As it is, you've nobly demonstrated an unalterable
scientific fact. The collision of marble and glass is unvaryingly