"Put it down. And you needn't wait, Parker."

"Very good, sir."

The valet withdrew, and Mr. Brewster resumed his lunch.

"Aren't you going to open it?" asked Professor Binstead, to whom a
telegram was a telegram.

"It can wait. I get them all day long. I expect it's from Lucille,
saying what train she's making."

"She returns to-day?"

"Yes, Been at Miami." Mr. Brewster, having dwelt at adequate length
on the contents of the chafing-dish, adjusted his glasses and took
up the envelope. "I shall be glad--Great Godfrey!"

He sat staring at the telegram, his mouth open. His friend eyed him
solicitously.

"No bad news, I hope?"

Mr. Brewster gurgled in a strangled way.

"Bad news? Bad--? Here, read it for yourself."

Professor Binstead, one of the three most inquisitive men in New
York, took the slip of paper with gratitude.