noticeable features were a very broad, flat nose; a comparatively
chinless under jaw, on which grew an accidental wisp of hair or two; a
narrow and permanently decorated upper lip. When she smiled--well, the
effect was discouraging, to say the least. Her eyes were pale and
prominent. In spite of all this, practice in rouging might have helped
her a little, but she had had no practice. Young men never came to the
house, and it was not worth while to keep up appearances for the old
ones who were content to dodder at the end of the way. You would say
at a glance that she was a very strong and enduring person, somewhat
along the lines of a suffragette ward politician.

The dinner was a genial one, after all. The General was at his best,
and the wine was perfect. In lucid moments, Eddie found himself
reflecting: "If I can drink enough of this I'll have delirium tremens
and then I won't have to believe all that I see."

Martha had always called him Eddie. In fact, every one called him
Eddie. He was that sort of a chap. To-night, he observed, with a hazy
interest, she addressed him as Mr. Ten Eyck, and rather frequently, at
that. It was: "Do you really think so, Mr. Ten Eyck?" or "How very
amusing, Mr. Ten Eyck," or "Good gracious, Mr. Ten Eyck," until poor
Eddie, unused to this distinction, reached a point where he muttered
something in way of protest that caused the General to cough violently
in order to give his guest a chance to recover himself before it was
too late.

After dinner the General and Mrs. Gamble retired somewhat
precipitously, leaving the young people alone.

Eddie heaved a tremendous sigh of decision and bravely crossed the