een offensive; between them, it
was a part of his perpetual game with her amiable weaknesses.

"If I did listen, it was no more than right. It was what a mother
would have done by Eleanor. I heard her say, 'Good morning Mr.
Chester,' not at all as though she were surprised to have him call up;
and I was really quite disturbed. You had told me not to invite him
here for the present; and I hadn't the slightest reason for knowing
that Eleanor had seen him since she came back from abroad. Her
speaking so familiarly--well, I wondered. But Kate--"

"Oh, she was listening too?"

"Well, I know that she hadn't the excuse for listening that I had; but
I had stopped hooking her up, and it was only natural that she should
listen too. Eleanor said, 'Certainly I shall be in,' and Kate said,
'That's the old friend we met with Mr. Masters last night in the Hotel
Marseillaise. He is prompt!' Rather sharp in Kate, considering what
Eleanor has been doing for her!

"You'd have thought Eleanor had eaten the canary bird when she came
back. Of course, she knew we had been listening. I wish she hadn't.
I'd have liked to see whether she'd have told us then, or waited for
him to surprise us. Kate was sharp again. I wonder if she isn't
envious at bottom? After all Eleanor is so much more a lady! Kate said
again, 'The young man is prompt!'"

Judge Tiffany laughed.

"Oh, that women could dwell together in peace and harmony! Can't you
grant my playmate Miss Waddington a feminine jab or two?"

"Well, she _is_ nice to you!"

"Did it never occur to you as a virtue in her that she puts herself
out to entertain--even, Madame, I flatter myself to fancy--a withered
old codger like me!"

Mrs. Tiffany's first expression flooded her eyes and said, "Is there
anything strange in liking you?" Her second expression set her mouth
hard and said, "What is her object?" Her voice said nothing.

"And behold him now," said Judge Tiffany.

There, indeed, came Bertram Chester, visible over their garden wall as
he toiled up the hen-coop sidewalk. The Judge returned to the house;
Mattie Tiffany settled herself on the piazza with the preen and
flutter of a female thing about to be wooed.

The Tiffany drawing-room, panelled simply in woods, furnished with the
old Sturtevant mahogany, came upon Bertram Chester like a stage
setting as he entered with Mrs. Tiffany. Upstage, burned a driftwood
fire in a low hearth of rough bricks; Judge Tiffany sat there, in a
spi