And Ina?" he asked.

"Leave everything," said Lulu.

"Oh, Dwight," said Ina, "we can't get along without Lulu." She did not
say in what particulars, but Dwight knew.

Dwight looked at Lulu, an upward, sidewise look, with a manner of
peering out to see if she meant it. And he saw.

He shrugged, pursed his lips crookedly, rolled his head to signify the
inexpressible. "Isn't that like a woman?" he demanded. He rose. "Rather
than let you in for a show of temper," he said grandly, "I'd do
anything."

He wrote the letter, addressed it, his hand elaborately curved in
secrecy about the envelope, pocketed it.

"Ina and I'll walk down with you to mail it," said Lulu.

Dwight hesitated, frowned. His Ina watched him with consulting brows.

"I was going," said Dwight, "to propose a little stroll before bedtime."
He roved about the room. "Where's my beautiful straw hat? There's
nothing like a brisk walk to induce sound, restful sleep," he told them.
He hummed a bar.

"You'll be all right, mother?" Lulu asked.

Mrs. Bett did not look up. "These cardamon hev got a little mite too
dry," she said.

* * * * *

In their room, Ina and Dwight discussed the incredible actions of Lulu.

"I saw," said Dwight, "I saw she wasn't herself. I'd do anything to
avoid having a scene--you know that." His glance swept a little
anxiously his Ina. "You know that, don't you?" he sharply inquired.

"But I really think you ought to have written to Ninian about it," she
now dared to say. "It's--it's not a nice position for Lulu."

"Nice? Well, but whom has she got to blame for it?"

"Why, Ninian," said Ina.

Dwight threw out his hands. "Herself," he said. "To tell you the truth,
I was perfectly amazed at the way she snapped him up there in that
restaurant."

"Why, but, Dwight--"

"Brazen," he said. "Oh, it was brazen."

"It was just fun, in the first place."

"But no really nice woman--" he shook his head.

"Dwight! Lulu _is_ nice. The idea!"

He regarded her. "Would you have done that?" he would know.

Under his fond look, she softened, took his homage, accepted everything,
was silent.

"Certainly not," he said. "Lulu's tastes are not fine like yours. I
should never think of you as sisters."

"She's awfully good," Ina said feebly. Fifteen years of married life
behind her--but this was sweet and she could not resist.

"She has excellent qualities." He admitted it. "But look at the position
she'