Frank Earl
seated themselves at eight o'clock for dinner.

It would be difficult to imagine two brothers more widely separated in
physical and mental characteristics. John was tall, athletic, with dark
hair, large, dreamy brown eyes, perfect poise, a silent and dignified
bearing that easily commanded attention when he spoke, a low, musical
voice and an exceedingly strong and graceful hand.

Frank was of medium height, spare of figure, with light hair,
penetrating blue eyes, resilient voice, quick and nervous of speech,
with large hands and feet, and not a shadow of dignity in his bearing.

The one personified reflection; the other action. In the eyes of one
appeared the dreams of centuries; beaming from the eyes of the other was
the fun of the ages.

"Did any of you people, aside from Jack, see the suffragette parade
to-day?" asked Frank, with laughing eyes fixed upon his brother.

"I--how do you know I saw it?" asked John, and his confused manner
brought "Eh, Jack?" from the other two.

"It's all right, Jack; I won't tell Leonora, but how jealous she would
be if she could have seen you following the banner carried by those
three pretty girls," answered Frank. "Why, I followed you a dozen blocks
myself, almost touching you the whole time, just to see which one of the
three girls was making you join the parade. The next time get right out
into the street, old man, and don't block the view of us spectators, for
you know you were a part of that parade to-day, in mind at least."

The absurdity of the scene as depicted by Frank made even John throw
back his head and join in the unrestrained laughter of the others.

"I was in the Waldorf-Astoria at a tea-table near the window when the
head of the column came in view. I, too, liked the looks of those pretty
girls carrying the banner, but before I could decide which one I liked
best, my dearly beloved brother hove in sight, with eyes glued on the
third one, wandering down the Avenue like either a slow-hatching lunatic
or a good subject for a hypnotist. I knew Jack would need me in New York
to steer him right until all that Indian mysticism gets out of his
system, and that is the reason I left the delights of the wilds for the
barbarism of the city. Well, I excused myself and hurried out to take
possession of Jack, but when I got close to him and was just about to
slap him on the shoulder, I followed his eyes--and for the life of me, I
couldn't touch him!"

Here Frank'