"'Returning New York to-day with darling Archie,'" he read. "'Lots
of love from us both. Lucille.'" He gaped at his host. "Who is
Archie?" he enquired.

"Who is Archie?" echoed Mr. Brewster helplessly. "Who is--? That's
just what I would like to know."

"'Darling Archie,'" murmured the professor, musing over the
telegram. "'Returning to-day with darling Archie.' Strange!"

Mr. Brewster continued to stare before him. When you send your only
daughter on a visit to Miami minus any entanglements and she
mentions in a telegram that she has acquired a darling Archie, you
are naturally startled. He rose from the table with a bound. It had
occurred to him that by neglecting a careful study of his mail
during the past week, as was his bad habit when busy, he had lost an
opportunity of keeping abreast with current happenings. He
recollected now that a letter had arrived from Lucille some time
ago, and that he had put it away unopened till he should have
leisure to read it. Lucille was a dear girl, he had felt, but her
letters when on a vacation seldom contained anything that couldn't
wait a few days for a reading. He sprang for his desk, rummaged
among his papers, and found what he was seeking.

It was a long letter, and there was silence in the room for some
moments while he mastered its contents. Then he turned to the
professor, breathing heavily.

"Good heavens!"