elongs to the best club and he dresses well, and as to society--why, he
is in the very heart of it; our kind of society, I mean."

"I know, I know. But--well, Cousin Percy doesn't speak well of him. He
says he is a very fast young man."

Gertrude bit her lip. "Did Percy say that!" she exclaimed. "How odd!
Why, Monty--I mean Mr. Holway--said almost the same thing about him. And
I KNOW you like Cousin Percy, Mother."

Mrs. Dott scarcely knew how to answer. As a matter of fact she did not
like their aristocratic relative quite as well as she had at
first. There were certain things about him, little mannerisms and
condescensions, which jarred upon her. He was so very, very much at home
in the family now; in fact, he seemed to take his permanent membership
in that family for granted. He had ceased to refer to himself as being
on a vacation, and, as for his "literary work," he appeared to have
forgotten that altogether.

But these were not the real reasons for Serena's growing dislike and
uneasiness. She hinted at the real reason in her next remark.

"I don't think," she said, "I don't think, Gertie, that you and he
should be so much together. You are engaged to be married, you know, and
John--"

Gertrude interrupted. She ignored the mention of Mr. Doane's name.

"Oh, Cousin Percy is all right," she said lightly. "He's good company.
Of course he may be something of a sport, but that is to be expected.
The trouble with you and me, Mother, is that we are too old-fashioned;
we are not sporty enough."

"GERTIE!" Serena's horror was beyond words.

Gertrude laughed. "But that can be mended," she went on. "Mother, you
should learn to drink cocktails and tango. I think I shall. Everybody's
doing it, doing it, doing it!"

Humming this spirited ditty, which the street pianos had rendered
popular, and smiling over her shoulder at her mother, she "one-stepped"
from the room. Serena put both hands to her head. Her "nerves" were more
troublesome than ever the remainder of that day.

There were enough troubles to rack even a healthy set of nerves. The
domestic situation was decidedly complicated. No successor to the
departed Hapgood had, as yet, been selected. Mr. Hungerford was
partially responsible for this. At first, when told of the butler's
misbehavior and its consequences, he had expressed sorrow, but had
advised forgiveness and the reinstallation of the discharged one.
The crime was, after all, not so very serious. Most