He was brought back to prose and reality by the major. Mrs. Mayburn
had been condoling with him, and he now turned and said, "I hope, my
dear sir, that you may never carry around such a barometer as I am
afflicted with. A man with an infirmity grows a little egotistical, if
not worse."

"You have much consolation, sir, in remembering how you came by your
infirmity," Graham replied. "Men bearing such proofs of service to
their country are not plentiful in our money-getting land."

His daughter's laugh rang out musically as she cried, "That was meant
to be a fine stroke of diplomacy. Papa, you will now have to pardon a
score of blunders."

"I have as yet no proof that any will be made," the major remarked,
and in fact Graham had underrated his acquaintance with the game. He
was quite equal to his aunt in proficiency, and with Miss St. John for
his partner he was on his mettle. He found her skilful indeed, quick,
penetrating, and possessed of an excellent memory. They held their own
so well that the major's spirits rose hourly. He forgot his wound in
the complete absorption of his favorite recreation.

As opportunity occurred Graham could not keep his eyes from wandering
here and there about the apartment that had so taken his fancy,
especially toward the large, well-filled bookcase and the pictures,
which, if not very expensive, had evidently been the choice of a
cultivated taste.

They were brought to a consciousness of the flight of time by a clock