along, a man who knew something more than polo and motors, she
had to carry on the deception to keep his respect, and be sedate
and matronly, and see him change from perfect open admiration at
first to a hands-off-she-is-my-host's-wife attitude at last.

"It can never be undone," I said soberly.

Well, that's the picture as nearly as I can draw it: a round
table with a low centerpiece of orchids in lavenders and pink,
old silver candlesticks with filigree shades against the somber
wainscoting; nine people, two of them unhappy--Jim and I; one of
them complacent--Aunt Selina; one puzzled--Mr. Harbison; and the
rest hysterically mirthful. Add one sick Japanese butler and
grind in the mills of the gods.

Every one promptly forgot Takahiro in the excitement of the game
we were all playing. Finally, however, Aunt Selina, who seemed to
have Takahiro on her mind, looked up from her plate.

"That Jap was speckled," she asserted. "I wouldn't be surprised
if it's measles. Has he been sniffling, James?"

"Has he been sniffling?" Jim threw across at me.

"I hadn't noticed it," I said meekly, while the others choked.

Max came to the rescue. "She refused to eat it," he explained,
distinctly and to everybody, apropos absolutely of nothing. "It
said on the box,'ready cooked and predigested.' She declared she
didn't care who cooked it, but she wanted to know who predigested