she agreed, turning to her niece, "it's a scandal to live in a
house with a strange man--you know, that's what you yourself called
Charles."

"It's a worse scandal," Delancy amended, "not to live with him."

"Oh, I see," Cicily remarked, meditatively. "I must have a chaperon.
But, on the other hand, now, Charles is, or rather he was, my husband.
That seems, somehow, to make a difference. At least, we are well
acquainted, although strangers at present, in a sense. And, besides, I
have the kindliest feeling for Charles, and that's more than lots of
women have for their husbands. As to that, you know, since he's not my
husband now, there is really no reason why I should not have the very
kindliest of feelings for him."

"Well, you claim to renounce your husband," Delancy argued angrily, "and
yet you continue to live with him in the same house. It's a monstrous
state of affairs. Will you tell me, please, madam, when this scandalous
situation is to end?"

"Would you have me desert Charles in a crisis?" Cicily demanded,
haughtily. "No, I'll give no one an opportunity to accuse me of
desertion in the face of the enemy."

"Oh, Lord!" Delancy exclaimed; and his tone was eloquent. "Oh, no, you
haven't deserted him!"

"I don't see what that has to do with it," Cicily objected, flushing
painfully. "Charles and I have merely--that is, we've--broken off
diplomatic relations."

At this extraordinary statement of the case, Mrs. Delancy, in her turn,
flushed a dainty pink, which was wondrously becoming to her waxen
cheeks, not unduly wrinkled despite her burden of years. Delancy
himself forgot indignation for the moment, and laughed outright, as he
regarded his wife to observe the manner in which she received the
surprising information. His eyes took on a kindlier expression as he saw
the change that gave her a wondrously younger look, and a rush of
memories caused him to smile reminiscently, half-sadly, half-tenderly.
The effect on him was apparent in the pleasanter voice with which he
next addressed his niece, playfully:

"My, my! She'd be sending him home to his mother, I expect, if only he
had a mother."

Cicily, still suffering in the throes of a painful embarrassment,
retorted hotly:

"Uncle Jim, I'd just like to shake you!"

"Oh, don't mind my gray hairs," Delancy scoffed. "And, when you're done
with me, you might spank your Aunt Emma."

That good woman shook her head dolorously, as the flush died from her
face.