smiling broadly.

"All the more reason for you to treat her with respect." Burns's arm
barred the way.

Macauley stopped short with an unbelieving chuckle. Arthur Chester,
Winifred, his wife, and Martha Macauley, coming in from the dining-room
together, gazed with interest at the scene before them. Ellen, herself
smiling, looked at her husband rather as if she saw something in him she
had never seen before. For it was impossible not to perceive that he was
not joking as he prevented Macauley from reaching his wife.

"Great snakes! he's in earnest!" howled Macauley, stopping short. "He
won't let me kiss his wife, when I'm the husband of her sister. Go 'way,
man, and cool that red head of yours. Anybody'd think I was going to
elope with her!"

"Think what you like," Burns retorted, coolly, "so long as you keep your
distance with your foolery. You or any other man."

"Red, you're not serious!" This was Martha. "Can't you trust Ellen to
preserve her own--"

"Dead line? Yes--in my absence. When I'm on the spot I prefer to play
picket-duty myself. I may be eccentric. But that's one of my notions,
and I've an idea it's one of hers, too."

"Better get her a veil, you Turk."

Macauley walked away with a very red face, at which Burns unexpectedly