round me and
slap myself with. Look here, let's get to bed. We could sit up all night
examining round into our accommodations. For my part, Eleanor's style of
living suits me a good deal better than this kind of elegance. Her house
is fine and comfortable, but no foolishness. There's one thing I do
like, though. This carpet feels mighty good to your bare feet, I'll make
sure!"

He presently made sure, walking back and forth barefooted across the
soft floor, chuckling like a boy, and making his toes sink into the
heavy pile of the great rug. He surveyed his small wife, in her
dressing-gown, sitting before the wide mirror of an elaborate
dressing-table, putting her white locks into crimping pins.

"Ruth," said he, with sudden solemnity, "I forgot to undress in my
dressing-room. Had I better put my clothes on and go take 'em off again
in there?"

He pointed across to an adjoining room, brilliant with lights and
equipped with all manner of furnishings adapted to masculine uses.

His wife turned about, laughing like a girl. "Maybe in there," she
suggested, "you could find a chair small enough to hang your coat across
the back of. I'm afraid it'll get all wrinkled, folded like that."

Uncle Rufus explored. After a minute he came back. "There's a queer sort
of bureau-thing in there all filled with coat-and-pants hangers," he
announced. "I'm going to put my things in it. It'll keep 'em from
getting wrinkled, as you say."

When he returned: "There's another bed in there," he said. "I don't know
what it's for. It's got the covers all turned back, too, just like this
one. Maybe we've made a mistake. Maybe there's somebody that has that
room, and he hasn't come in yet. Do you suppose I'd better shut the door
between?"

"Maybe you had," agreed his wife anxiously. "It would be dreadful if he
should come in after a while. Still--young Mr. Kendrick called it your
dressing-room."

"And my clothes are in there," added Uncle Rufus. "It's all right.
Probably the girl made a mistake when she fixed that bed--thought there
was a child with us, maybe."

"You might just shut the door," Aunt Ruth suggested. "Then if anybody
did come in--"

Uncle Rufus shook his head. "It's meant for us," he asserted with
conviction as he climbed into bed. "He said 'dressing-room' and pointed.
The girl's made a mistake, that's all. It's a good place for my clothes,
and I'm going to leave 'em there. Will you put out the lights?"

Aunt Ruth looked ar