"Well then; after dinner--"

"You'll all meet me here?" He looked us round again. "Isn't anybody going?"
It was almost the tone of hope.

"Everybody will stay!"

"_I_ will" --and "_I_ will!" cried the ladies whose departure
had been fixed. Mrs. Griffin, however, expressed the need
for a little more light. "Who was it she was in love with?"

"The story will tell," I took upon myself to reply.

"Oh, I can't wait for the story!"

"The story WON'T tell," said Douglas; "not in any literal, vulgar way."

"More's the pity, then. That's the only way I ever understand."

"Won't YOU tell, Douglas?" somebody else inquired.

He sprang to his feet again. "Yes--tomorrow. Now I must go to bed.
Good night." And quickly catching up a candlestick, he left
us slightly bewildered. From our end of the great brown hall
we heard his step on the stair; whereupon Mrs. Griffin spoke.
"Well, if I don't know who she was in love with, I know
who HE was."

"She was ten years older," said her husband.