"I wonder, sometimes."

"I know it."

Outside the slamming of an automobile door announced Dick's return, and

almost immediately Minnie rang the old fashioned gong which hung in the

lower hall. Mrs. Crosby got up and placed a leaf of lettuce between the

bars of the bird cage.

"Dinner time, Caruso," she said absently. Caruso was the name Dick had

given the bird. And to David: "She must be in her thirties now."

"Probably." Then his anger and anxiety burst out. "What difference can

it make about her? About Donaldson's wife? About any hang-over from that

rotten time? They're gone, all of them. He's here. He's safe and happy.

He's strong and fine. That's gone."

In the lower hall Dick was taking off his overcoat.

"Smell's like chicken, Minnie," he said, into the dining room.

"Chicken and biscuits, Mr. Dick."

"Hi, up there!" he called lustily. "Come and feed a starving man. I'm

going to muffle the door-bell!"

He stood smiling up at them, very tidy in his Sunday suit, very boyish,

for all his thirty-two years. His face, smilingly tender as he watched

them, was strong rather than handsome, quietly dependable and faintly

humorous.

"In the language of our great ally," he said, "Madame et Monsieur, le

diner est servi."

In his eyes there was not only tenderness but a somewhat emphasized

affection, as though he meant to demonstrate, not only to them but to

himself, that this new thing that had come to him did not touch their

old relationship. For the new thing had come. He was still slightly

dazed with the knowledge of it, and considerably anxious. Because he had

just taken a glance at himself in the mirror of the walnut hat-rack, and

had seen nothing there particularly to inspire--well, to inspire what he

wanted to inspire.

At the foot of the stairs he drew Lucy's arm through his, and held her

hand. She seemed very small and frail beside him.

"Some day," he said, "a strong wind will come along and carry off Mrs.

Lucy Crosby, and the Doctors Livingstone will be obliged hurriedly to

rent aeroplanes, and to search for her at various elevations!"

David sat down and picked up the old fashioned carving knife.

"Get the clubs?" he inquired.

Dick looked almost stricken.

"I forgot them, David," he said guiltily. "Jim Wheeler went out to look

them up, and I--I'll go back after dinner."

It was sometime later in the meal that Dick looked up from his plate and

said: "I'd like to cut office hours on Wednesday night, David. I've asked

Elizabeth Wheeler to go into town to the theater."




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