l his glory had
nothing on me!"

She had not dressed Roger for nothing, and her keen eye did not miss the
numerous minute lapses from perfection in Good's attire. The general
effect just missed being what it should be. But his naive pride was
contagious. She found herself forgetting the essential absurdity of his
costume in his own unqualified delight.

His collar was prodigiously high, and being so much taller than she, it
was impossible for their eyes to meet. He looked for all the world like
some grotesque bird, fitted with a more or less painful and wholly
unaccustomed harness.

She dropped her handkerchief and as he stooped to pick it up a subdued
groan came from him.

"I wonder what maniac ever devised such a shirt," he grumbled. "It's
correct--the man told me so--showed me pictures to prove it ... but it
proves that civilisation isn't civilised. Catch a savage in a straight
jacket like this--I guess not."

There was a dreadful pause as she entered the library with Good. For a
fleeting instant which seemed minutes to her, everyone stared at the
newcomer. Then breeding reasserted itself and Judith was able to go
through the introductions without further embarrassment. Good stumbled
cheerfully over ladies' trains, shook hands vigorously, was uniformly
"pleased to meet" everyone, and appeared quite unconscious of the
interested, not to say amused gazes which followed him. But Judith could
see plainly that he was not sorry when the process of acquainting him
with the other guests was over and he could slip out of the
conversational maelstrom into the quiet backwaters formed by the space
between the piano and the wall, to stand alone in a contemplative and
awkward silence. She was relieved, too, when dinner was announced.

She had been in doubt as to just where to place him at the table, but
had finally decided on Molly Wolcott. She was a very animated girl, if
the companion and the topic interested her, and extraordinarily taciturn
if they did not. Her range of interests was not large, being chiefly
concerned with the various ramifications of sport. She had once been
known to turn with deliberation from a distinguished British novelist,
to a callow youth whose sole claim to distinction lay in having kicked a
winning goal.

Judith felt confident that Good would prove quite without attraction for
her. But she would, for that very reason, leave him severely alone, and
she could, herself, take care of him. With t