that?''

Arkwright laughed. The constraint fled from
his manner.

``Well, I may as well tell you. You'll hear of
it. It's no secret. Mrs. Henshaw herself tells of
it everywhere. It was her friend, Alice Greggory,
who told me of it first, however. It seems
the cook was gone, and the mistress had to get
the dinner herself.''

``Yes, I know that.''

``But you should hear Mrs. Henshaw tell the
story now, or Bertram. It seems she knew nothing
whatever about cooking, and her trials and
tribulations in getting that dinner on to the
table were only one degree worse than the dinner
itself, according to her story. Didn't you--er
--notice anything?''

``Notice anything!'' exploded Calderwell. ``I
noticed that Billy was so brilliant she fairly
radiated sparks; and I noticed that Bertram was
so glum he--he almost radiated thunderclaps.
Then I saw that Billy's high spirits were all
assumed to cover a threatened burst of tears,
and I laid it all to him. I thought he'd said
something to hurt her; and I could have punched