checked the gesture, and sat helplessly, with the sandwich in his
hand. He made another effort to get rid of it as the waitress
passed him, on her way back to the dining-room, but she appeared
not to observe him, and he continued to be troubled by it.

Alice was a loyal daughter. "These are delicious, mama," she
said; and turning to Russell, "You missed it; you should have
taken one. Too bad we couldn't have offered you what ought to go
with it, of course, but----"

She was interrupted by the second entrance of Gertrude, who
announced, "Dinner serve'," and retired from view.

"Well, well!" Adams said, rising from his chair, with relief.
"That's good! Let's go see if we can eat it." And as the little
group moved toward the open door of the dining-room he disposed
of his sandwich by dropping it in the empty fireplace.

Alice, glancing back over her shoulder, was the only one who saw
him, and she shuddered in spite of herself. Then, seeing that he
looked at her entreatingly, as if he wanted to explain that he
was doing the best he could, she smiled upon him sunnily, and
began to chatter to Russell again.



CHAPTER XXII

Alice kept her sprightly chatter going when they sat down, though
the temperature of the room and the sight of hot soup might have