city
meeting on for to-day, and I'm a delegate to some little unheard-of place.
It usually does rain when one goes into the country, I've noticed."

She went into the hall, and presently returned with a distressed look upon
her face.

"Tryon, I'm afraid you're wrong," she said. "Now my rain-coat is missing.
My new rain-coat! I hung it up in the hall-closet with my own hands, after
it came from the store. I really think something ought to be done!"

"There! I hope you see!" said Cornelia severely. "I think it's high time
something was done. I shall 'phone for a detective at once!"

"Cornelia, you'll do nothing of the kind," her brother protested, now
thoroughly aroused. "I'll agree to pay for the hat and the rain-coat if
they are not forthcoming before a fortnight passes, but you simply shall
not ruin that poor girl's reputation. I insist, Mother, that you put a
stop to such rash proceedings. I'll make myself personally responsible for
that girl's honesty."

"Well, of course, Tryon, if you wish it----" said his mother, with anxious
hesitation.

"I certainly do wish it, Mother. I shall take it as personal if anything
is done in this matter without consulting me. Remember, Cornelia, I will
not have any trifling. A girl's reputation is certainly worth more than
several hats and rain-coats, and I _know_ she has not taken them."

He walked from the dining-room and from the house in angry dignity, to the
astonishment of his mother and sister, to whom he was usually courtesy
itself. Consulting him about household matters was as a rule merely a
form, for he almost never interfered. The two women looked at each other
in startled bewilderment.

"Mother," said Cornelia, "you don't suppose he can have fallen in love
with Norah, do you? Why, she's Irish and freckled! And Tryon has always
been so fastidious!"

"Cornelia! How dare you suggest such a thing? Tryon is a _Dunham_.
Whatever else a Dunham may or may not do, he never does anything low or
unrefined."

The small, prim, stylish mother looked quite regal in her aristocratic
rage.

"But, Mother, one reads such dreadful things in the papers now. Of course
Tryon would never _marry_ any one like that, but----"

"Cornelia!"--her mother's voice had almost reached a patrician scream--"I
forbid you to mention the subject again. I cannot think where you learned
to voice such thoughts."

"Well, my goodness, Mother, I don't mean anything, only I do wish I had
my hat. I alwa