left for scrutiny the same ancient hint from the Infinite to the
effect that since events have never yet failed to be law-abiding,
perhaps it were well for us to deduce that they will continue to
be so until further notice.

. . . On the day that was to open the closed door in the
background of his pictures of Alice, Russell lunched with his
relatives. There were but the four people, Russell and Mildred
and her mother and father, in the great, cool dining-room.
Arched French windows, shaded by awnings, admitted a mellow light
and looked out upon a green lawn ending in a long conservatory,
which revealed through its glass panes a carnival of plants in
luxuriant blossom. From his seat at the table, Russell glanced
out at this pretty display, and informed his cousins that he was
surprised. "You have such a glorious spread of flowers all over
the house," he said, "I didn't suppose you'd have any left out
yonder. In fact, I didn't know there were so many splendid
flowers in the world."

Mrs. Palmer, large, calm, fair, like her daughter, responded
with a mild reproach: "That's because you haven't been cousinly
enough to get used to them, Arthur. You've almost taught us to
forget what you look like."

In defense Russell waved a hand toward her husband. "You see,
he's begun to keep me so hard at work----"

But Mr. Palmer declined the responsibility. "Up to four or five
in the afternoon, perhaps," he said. "After that, the young
gentleman is as much a stranger to me as he is to my family.