uyck, almost as sharply as Osric Dane.

Mrs. Ballinger looked at Laura Glyde, whose eyes were interrogatively
fixed on Mrs. Leveret. The fact of being deferred to was so new to
the latter that it filled her with an insane temerity. "Why, Xingu, of
course!" she exclaimed.

A profound silence followed this challenge to the resources of Mrs.
Ballinger's library, and the latter, after glancing nervously toward the
Books of the Day, returned with dignity: "It's not a thing one cares to
leave about."

"I should think not!" exclaimed Mrs. Plinth.

"It _is_ a book, then?" said Miss Van Vluyck.

This again threw the company into disarray, and Mrs. Ballinger, with an
impatient sigh, rejoined: "Why--there _is_ a book--naturally...."

"Then why did Miss Glyde call it a religion?"

Laura Glyde started up. "A religion? I never--"

"Yes, you did," Miss Van Vluyck insisted; "you spoke of rites; and Mrs.
Plinth said it was a custom."

Miss Glyde was evidently making a desperate effort to recall her
statement; but accuracy of detail was not her strongest point. At length
she began in a deep murmur: "Surely they used to do something of the
kind at the Eleusinian mysteries--"

"Oh--" said Miss Van Vluyck, on the verge of disapproval; and Mrs.
Plinth protested: "I understood there was to be no indelicacy!"

Mrs. Ballinger could not control her irritation. "Really, it is too
bad that we should not be able to talk the matter over quietly among
ourselves. Personally, I think that if one goes into Xingu at all--"

"Oh, so do I!" cried Miss Glyde.

"And I don't see how one can avoid doing so, if one wishes to keep up
with the Thought of the Day--"

Mrs. Leveret uttered an exclamation of relief. "There--that's it!" she
interposed.

"What's it?" the President took her up.

"Why--it's a--a Thought: I mean a philosophy."

This seemed to bring a certain relief to Mrs. Ballinger and Laura Glyde,
but Miss Van Vluyck said: "Excuse me if I tell you that you're all
mistaken. Xingu happens to be a language."

"A language!" the Lunch Club cried.

"Certainly. Don't you remember Fanny Roby's saying that there were
several branches, and that some were hard to trace? What could that
apply to but dialects?"

Mrs. Ballinger could no longer restrain a contemptuous laugh. "Really,
if the Lunch Club has reached such a pass that it has to go to Fanny
Roby for instruction on a subject like Xingu, it had almost better cease
to exist!"

"It's