Five minutes later Macauley, putting down his empty plate, got up and
strolled out into the hall. A moment afterward he was heard abruptly
closing the office door, saying, "Oh, I beg pardon!" Then he returned to
the company. He was whistling softly as he came, his hands in his pockets
and his eyebrows lifted.

"He _is_ dippy," he said, solemnly. "No man in his senses would act like
that."

"You eavesdropper, what did you see?" Winifred Chester looked at him
expectantly.

"I saw the worst-looking specimen of tramp humanity who has come under my
observation for a year, with a bandage over one eye. He is sitting in
that big chair with a plate and napkin in his lap, and his ugly mouth is
full of beefsteak."

"And isn't Red having any?" cried Martha, with a glance at the empty
platter.

"Not a smell. He's standing up by the chimney-piece, looking the picture
of contentment--the idiot. But he modified his benevolent expression
long enough to give me a glare, when he saw me looking in. That's the
second glare I've had from him to-night, and I'm going home. I can't
stand incurring his displeasure a third time in one day. Come, Martha,
let's get back to our happy home--what there is left of it after the
fray. We'll send over a plate of little cakes for the master of the
house. A couple of dozen of them may fill up that yawning cavity of his.
Of all the foolishness!"