through. Would you come here as he does if I refused to invite your
wife?"

Chauncy Wilson laughed again, leaning forward to knock the ashes out of
his pipe.

"He's a fool, fast enough; and I dare say you're tired of his beastly
spooning; but all the same, the real reason for this circus is that you
want to amuse yourself."

She drew up her head in mock dignity.

"Of course," she returned, "if my own husband does not appreciate how I
resent"--She broke off in a burst of laughter. "Nobody ever understood
me but you, Chauncy," she cried. "Good-by. It's time I took the stage."

She threw him a kiss, and went to the drawing-room. Looking at her
watch, she placed herself behind the curtains of a window which
commanded the avenue. Presently she espied her victim, and with a last
glance around to assure herself that everything was as she wished it to
be, she mounted to the top of the piano. There she hastily tucked the
hem of her skirt between the piano and the wall. The reflection in a
great blue-black Chinese jar showed her when Rangely appeared between
the portieres, so that she was able to step back as if to view the
effect of her work just as he reached the middle of the room.

"Be careful!" exclaimed he, hurrying forward. "You almost stepped off
backward!"

She wheeled about quickly.