iveness of his sardonic reminder. The
book she was holding had dropped to the floor with a crash, her cheeks
had gone white to the lips, and now she was staring straight ahead of
her with a fixed expression of horror in her eyes as though they were
truly visioning the sure approach of Death.

_V: Miss Lucy's Man_

It did not take Simon Varr and Miss Copley very long to recover from
the perturbation they had shown when she finished reading him the bit
of folklore relating to the Monk. Both of them were highly efficient
in the art of self-repression, or failing that, knew how to mask an
inner emotion behind their normal outward semblance. When they
presently left the study for the luncheon table, Simon wore his usual
frown above knitted brows, while Miss Ocky displayed her accustomed
placidity of countenance with its high-lights of humor about her lips
and sharp gray eyes.

A dish of French chops annoyed the lord and master of the house. He
pointed out to his patient helpmeet that times were ripe for economy
and that French chops are economical only in respect to their nutritive
content. With the tannery closed down, an era of corned beef and
cabbage was strongly indicated--especially, she would understand, as
there now appeared to be four mouths to feed in the family instead of
the customary three. He hoped she would heed his words and exercise
greater prudence in the management of her household--and the courteous
inflection of his tones as he voiced his hope was a masterpiece of
sarcasm. It left his wife pale and resigned, his son red and
embarrassed.

"If corned beef and cabbage ever shows up in this dining-room,"
remarked the one member of his audience still undaunted, "my father
will turn in his grave."

"Your father thought entirely too much of his stomach," said her host
coldly.

"Yes? Well, it repaid him for all the affection he lavished on it.
His digestion was wonderful to the very end. How is yours?"

"I could say that that is purely my own business, but if you insist on
knowing, my digestion is excellent."

"I shouldn't have thought it. I don't agree with you as to the
essential privacy of the subject, either. It concerns all of us since
we have to live with you."

"_Do_ you?"

"Ah!" A touch of color in her cheeks suggested that flint was at last
beginning to spark beneath the steel. "Apropos of that and your
earlier remark, Simon--would it ease your financial straits at all if